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-<h1>Project Gutenberg's etext, Madame Bovary, by Gustave Flaubert </h1>
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-Madame Bovary
-
-by Gustave Flaubert
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-November, 2000 [Etext #2413]
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-[Most recently updated September 4, 2002]
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-*** Start of Project Gutenberg Etext, Madame Bovary, by Gustave Flaubert ***
-</pre>
-
-Madame Bovary
-<p>By Gustave Flaubert</p>
-<p>Translated from the French by Eleanor Marx-Aveling</p>
-<p>To Marie-Antoine-Jules Senard
- Member of the Paris Bar, Ex-President of the National Assembly,
- and Former Minister of the Interior
- Dear and Illustrious Friend,
- Permit me to inscribe your name at the head of this book, and
- above its dedication; for it is to you, before all, that I owe
- its publication. Reading over your magnificent defence, my work
- has acquired for myself, as it were, an unexpected authority.</p>
-<p>Accept, then, here, the homage of my gratitude, which, how great
- soever it is, will never attain the height of your eloquence and
- your devotion.</p>
-<p>Gustave Flaubert Paris, 12 April 1857</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h1 align="center"> MADAME BOVARY</h1>
-<h2 align="center">Part I</h2>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter One</h3>
-<h3 align="center">&nbsp;</h3>
-<p>We were in class when the head-master came in, followed by a &quot;new
- fellow,&quot; not wearing the school uniform, and a school servant
- carrying a large desk. Those who had been asleep woke up, and
- every one rose as if just surprised at his work.</p>
-
-<p>The head-master made a sign to us to sit down. Then, turning to
- the class-master, he said to him in a low voice--</p>
-<p>&quot;Monsieur Roger, here is a pupil whom I recommend to your care;
- he'll be in the second. If his work and conduct are satisfactory,
- he will go into one of the upper classes, as becomes his age.&quot;</p>
-<p>The &quot;new fellow,&quot; standing in the corner behind the door so that
- he could hardly be seen, was a country lad of about fifteen, and
- taller than any of us. His hair was cut square on his forehead
- like a village chorister's; he looked reliable, but very ill at
- ease. Although he was not broad-shouldered, his short school
- jacket of green cloth with black buttons must have been tight
- about the arm-holes, and showed at the opening of the cuffs red
- wrists accustomed to being bare. His legs, in blue stockings,
- looked out from beneath yellow trousers, drawn tight by braces,
- He wore stout, ill-cleaned, hob-nailed boots.</p>
-<p>We began repeating the lesson. He listened with all his ears, as
- attentive as if at a sermon, not daring even to cross his legs or
- lean on his elbow; and when at two o'clock the bell rang, the
- master was obliged to tell him to fall into line with the rest of
- us.</p>
-<p>When we came back to work, we were in the habit of throwing our
- caps on the ground so as to have our hands more free; we used
- from the door to toss them under the form, so that they hit
- against the wall and made a lot of dust: it was &quot;the thing.&quot;</p>
-<p>But, whether he had not noticed the trick, or did not dare to
- attempt it, the &quot;new fellow,&quot; was still holding his cap on his
- knees even after prayers were over. It was one of those
- head-gears of composite order, in which we can find traces of the
- bearskin, shako, billycock hat, sealskin cap, and cotton
- night-cap; one of those poor things, in fine, whose dumb ugliness
- has depths of expression, like an imbecile's face. Oval,
- stiffened with whalebone, it began with three round knobs; then
- came in succession lozenges of velvet and rabbit-skin separated
- by a red band; after that a sort of bag that ended in a cardboard
- polygon covered with complicated braiding, from which hung, at
- the end of a long thin cord, small twisted gold threads in the
- manner of a tassel. The cap was new; its peak shone.</p>
-<p>&quot;Rise,&quot; said the master.</p>
-<p>He stood up; his cap fell. The whole class began to laugh. He
- stooped to pick it up. A neighbor knocked it down again with his
- elbow; he picked it up once more.</p>
-<p>&quot;Get rid of your helmet,&quot; said the master, who was a bit of a
- wag.</p>
-<p>There was a burst of laughter from the boys, which so thoroughly
- put the poor lad out of countenance that he did not know whether
- to keep his cap in his hand, leave it on the ground, or put it on
- his head. He sat down again and placed it on his knee.</p>
-<p>&quot;Rise,&quot; repeated the master, &quot;and tell me your name.&quot;</p>
-<p>The new boy articulated in a stammering voice an unintelligible
- name.</p>
-<p>&quot;Again!&quot;</p>
-<p>The same sputtering of syllables was heard, drowned by the
- tittering of the class.</p>
-<p>&quot;Louder!&quot; cried the master; &quot;louder!&quot;</p>
-<p>The &quot;new fellow&quot; then took a supreme resolution, opened an
- inordinately large mouth, and shouted at the top of his voice as
- if calling someone in the word &quot;Charbovari.&quot;</p>
-<p>A hubbub broke out, rose in crescendo with bursts of shrill
- voices (they yelled, barked, stamped, repeated &quot;Charbovari!
- Charbovari&quot;), then died away into single notes, growing quieter
- only with great difficulty, and now and again suddenly
- recommencing along the line of a form whence rose here and there,
- like a damp cracker going off, a stifled laugh.</p>
-<p>However, amid a rain of impositions, order was gradually
- re-established in the class; and the master having succeeded in
- catching the name of &quot;Charles Bovary,&quot; having had it dictated to
- him, spelt out, and re-read, at once ordered the poor devil to go
- and sit down on the punishment form at the foot of the master's
- desk. He got up, but before going hesitated.</p>
-<p>&quot;What are you looking for?&quot; asked the master.</p>
-<p>&quot;My c-a-p,&quot; timidly said the &quot;new fellow,&quot; casting troubled
- looks
- round him.</p>
-<p>&quot;Five hundred lines for all the class!&quot; shouted in a furious
- voice stopped, like the Quos ego*, a fresh outburst. &quot;Silence!&quot;
- continued the master indignantly, wiping his brow with his
- handkerchief, which he had just taken from his cap. &quot;As to you,
- 'new boy,' you will conjugate 'ridiculus sum'** twenty times.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then, in a gentler tone, &quot;Come, you'll find your cap again; it
- hasn't been stolen.&quot;</p>
-<p>*A quotation from the Aeneid signifying a threat.</p>
-<p>**I am ridiculous.</p>
-<p>Quiet was restored. Heads bent over desks, and the &quot;new fellow&quot;
- remained for two hours in an exemplary attitude, although from
- time to time some paper pellet flipped from the tip of a pen came
- bang in his face. But he wiped his face with one hand and
- continued motionless, his eyes lowered.</p>
-<p>In the evening, at preparation, he pulled out his pens from his
- desk, arranged his small belongings, and carefully ruled his
- paper. We saw him working conscientiously, looking up every word
- in the dictionary, and taking the greatest pains. Thanks, no
- doubt, to the willingness he showed, he had not to go down to the
- class below. But though he knew his rules passably, he had little
- finish in composition. It was the cure of his village who had
- taught him his first Latin; his parents, from motives of economy,
- having sent him to school as late as possible.</p>
-<p>His father, Monsieur Charles Denis Bartolome Bovary, retired assistant-surgeon-major,
- compromised about 1812 in certain conscription scandals, and forced at this
- time to leave the service, had taken advantage of his fine figure to get hold
- of a dowry of sixty thousand francs that offered in the person of a hosier's
- daughter who had fallen in love with his good looks. A fine man, a great talker,
- making his spurs ring as he walked, wearing whiskers that ran into his moustache,
- his fingers always garnished with rings and dressed in loud colours, he had
- the dash of a military man with the easy go of a commercial traveller.</p>
-<p>Once married, he lived for three or four years on his wife's
- fortune, dining well, rising late, smoking long porcelain pipes,
- not coming in at night till after the theatre, and haunting
- cafes. The father-in-law died, leaving little; he was indignant
- at this, &quot;went in for the business,&quot; lost some money in it, then
- retired to the country, where he thought he would make money.</p>
-<p>But, as he knew no more about farming than calico, as he rode his
- horses instead of sending them to plough, drank his cider in
- bottle instead of selling it in cask, ate the finest poultry in
- his farmyard, and greased his hunting-boots with the fat of his
- pigs, he was not long in finding out that he would do better to
- give up all speculation.</p>
-<p>For two hundred francs a year he managed to live on the border of
- the provinces of Caux and Picardy, in a kind of place half farm,
- half private house; and here, soured, eaten up with regrets,
- cursing his luck, jealous of everyone, he shut himself up at the
- age of forty-five, sick of men, he said, and determined to live
- at peace.</p>
-<p>His wife had adored him once on a time; she had bored him with a
- thousand servilities that had only estranged him the more. Lively
- once, expansive and affectionate, in growing older she had become
- (after the fashion of wine that, exposed to air, turns to
- vinegar) ill-tempered, grumbling, irritable. She had suffered so
- much without complaint at first, until she had seem him going
- after all the village drabs, and until a score of bad houses sent
- him back to her at night, weary, stinking drunk. Then her pride
- revolted. After that she was silent, burying her anger in a dumb
- stoicism that she maintained till her death. She was constantly
- going about looking after business matters. She called on the
- lawyers, the president, remembered when bills fell due, got them
- renewed, and at home ironed, sewed, washed, looked after the
- workmen, paid the accounts, while he, troubling himself about
- nothing, eternally besotted in sleepy sulkiness, whence he only
- roused himself to say disagreeable things to her, sat smoking by
- the fire and spitting into the cinders.</p>
-<p>When she had a child, it had to be sent out to nurse. When he
- came home, the lad was spoilt as if he were a prince. His mother
- stuffed him with jam; his father let him run about barefoot, and,
- playing the philosopher, even said he might as well go about
- quite naked like the young of animals. As opposed to the maternal
- ideas, he had a certain virile idea of childhood on which he
- sought to mould his son, wishing him to be brought up hardily,
- like a Spartan, to give him a strong constitution. He sent him to
- bed without any fire, taught him to drink off large draughts of
- rum and to jeer at religious processions. But, peaceable by
- nature, the lad answered only poorly to his notions. His mother
- always kept him near her; she cut out cardboard for him, told him
- tales, entertained him with endless monologues full of melancholy
- gaiety and charming nonsense. In her life's isolation she
- centered on the child's head all her shattered, broken little
- vanities. She dreamed of high station; she already saw him, tall,
- handsome, clever, settled as an engineer or in the law. She
- taught him to read, and even, on an old piano, she had taught him
- two or three little songs. But to all this Monsieur Bovary,
- caring little for letters, said, &quot;It was not worth while. Would
- they ever have the means to send him to a public school, to buy
- him a practice, or start him in business? Besides, with cheek a
- man always gets on in the world.&quot; Madame Bovary bit her lips, and
- the child knocked about the village.</p>
-<p>He went after the labourers, drove away with clods of earth the
- ravens that were flying about. He ate blackberries along the
- hedges, minded the geese with a long switch, went haymaking
- during harvest, ran about in the woods, played hop-scotch under
- the church porch on rainy days, and at great fetes begged the
- beadle to let him toll the bells, that he might hang all his
- weight on the long rope and feel himself borne upward by it in
- its swing. Meanwhile he grew like an oak; he was strong on hand,
- fresh of colour.</p>
-<p>When he was twelve years old his mother had her own way; he began
- lessons. The cure took him in hand; but the lessons were so short
- and irregular that they could not be of much use. They were given
- at spare moments in the sacristy, standing up, hurriedly, between
- a baptism and a burial; or else the cure, if he had not to go
- out, sent for his pupil after the Angelus*. They went up to his
- room and settled down; the flies and moths fluttered round the
- candle. It was close, the child fell asleep, and the good man,
- beginning to doze with his hands on his stomach, was soon snoring
- with his mouth wide open. On other occasions, when Monsieur le
- Cure, on his way back after administering the viaticum to some
- sick person in the neighbourhood, caught sight of Charles playing
- about the fields, he called him, lectured him for a quarter of an
- hour and took advantage of the occasion to make him conjugate his
- verb at the foot of a tree. The rain interrupted them or an
- acquaintance passed. All the same he was always pleased with him,
- and even said the &quot;young man&quot; had a very good memory.</p>
-<p>*A devotion said at morning, noon, and evening, at the sound of a
- bell. Here, the evening prayer.</p>
-<p>Charles could not go on like this. Madame Bovary took strong
- steps. Ashamed, or rather tired out, Monsieur Bovary gave in
- without a struggle, and they waited one year longer, so that the
- lad should take his first communion.</p>
-<p>Six months more passed, and the year after Charles was finally
- sent to school at Rouen, where his father took him towards the
- end of October, at the time of the St. Romain fair.</p>
-<p>It would now be impossible for any of us to remember anything
- about him. He was a youth of even temperament, who played in
- playtime, worked in school-hours, was attentive in class, slept
- well in the dormitory, and ate well in the refectory. He had in
- loco parentis* a wholesale ironmonger in the Rue Ganterie, who
- took him out once a month on Sundays after his shop was shut,
- sent him for a walk on the quay to look at the boats, and then
- brought him back to college at seven o'clock before supper. Every
- Thursday evening he wrote a long letter to his mother with red
- ink and three wafers; then he went over his history note-books,
- or read an old volume of &quot;Anarchasis&quot; that was knocking about the
- study. When he went for walks he talked to the servant, who, like
- himself, came from the country.</p>
-<p>*In place of a parent.</p>
-<p>By dint of hard work he kept always about the middle of the
- class; once even he got a certificate in natural history. But at
- the end of his third year his parents withdrew him from the
- school to make him study medicine, convinced that he could even
- take his degree by himself.</p>
-<p>His mother chose a room for him on the fourth floor of a dyer's
- she knew, overlooking the Eau-de-Robec. She made arrangements for
- his board, got him furniture, table and two chairs, sent home for
- an old cherry-tree bedstead, and bought besides a small cast-iron
- stove with the supply of wood that was to warm the poor child.</p>
-<p>Then at the end of a week she departed, after a thousand
- injunctions to be good now that he was going to be left to
- himself.</p>
-<p>The syllabus that he read on the notice-board stunned him;
- lectures on anatomy, lectures on pathology, lectures on
- physiology, lectures on pharmacy, lectures on botany and clinical
- medicine, and therapeutics, without counting hygiene and materia
- medica--all names of whose etymologies he was ignorant, and that
- were to him as so many doors to sanctuaries filled with
- magnificent darkness.</p>
-<p>He understood nothing of it all; it was all very well to listen--
- he did not follow. Still he worked; he had bound note-books, he
- attended all the courses, never missed a single lecture. He did
- his little daily task like a mill-horse, who goes round and round
- with his eyes bandaged, not knowing what work he is doing.</p>
-<p>To spare him expense his mother sent him every week by the
- carrier a piece of veal baked in the oven, with which he lunched
- when he came back from the hospital, while he sat kicking his
- feet against the wall. After this he had to run off to lectures,
- to the operation-room, to the hospital, and return to his home at
- the other end of the town. In the evening, after the poor dinner
- of his landlord, he went back to his room and set to work again
- in his wet clothes, which smoked as he sat in front of the hot
- stove.</p>
-<p>On the fine summer evenings, at the time when the close streets
- are empty, when the servants are playing shuttle-cock at the
- doors, he opened his window and leaned out. The river, that makes
- of this quarter of Rouen a wretched little Venice, flowed beneath
- him, between the bridges and the railings, yellow, violet, or
- blue. Working men, kneeling on the banks, washed their bare arms
- in the water. On poles projecting from the attics, skeins of
- cotton were drying in the air. Opposite, beyond the roots spread
- the pure heaven with the red sun setting. How pleasant it must be
- at home! How fresh under the beech-tree! And he expanded his
- nostrils to breathe in the sweet odours of the country which did
- not reach him.</p>
-<p>He grew thin, his figure became taller, his face took a saddened
- look that made it nearly interesting. Naturally, through
- indifference, he abandoned all the resolutions he had made. Once
- he missed a lecture; the next day all the lectures; and, enjoying
- his idleness, little by little, he gave up work altogether. He
- got into the habit of going to the public-house, and had a
- passion for dominoes. To shut himself up every evening in the
- dirty public room, to push about on marble tables the small sheep
- bones with black dots, seemed to him a fine proof of his freedom,
- which raised him in his own esteem. It was beginning to see life,
- the sweetness of stolen pleasures; and when he entered, he put
- his hand on the door-handle with a joy almost sensual. Then many
- things hidden within him came out; he learnt couplets by heart
- and sang them to his boon companions, became enthusiastic about
- Beranger, learnt how to make punch, and, finally, how to make
- love.</p>
-<p>Thanks to these preparatory labours, he failed completely in his
- examination for an ordinary degree. He was expected home the same
- night to celebrate his success. He started on foot, stopped at
- the beginning of the village, sent for his mother, and told her
- all. She excused him, threw the blame of his failure on the
- injustice of the examiners, encouraged him a little, and took
- upon herself to set matters straight. It was only five years
- later that Monsieur Bovary knew the truth; it was old then, and
- he accepted it. Moreover, he could not believe that a man born of
- him could be a fool.</p>
-<p>So Charles set to work again and crammed for his examination,
- ceaselessly learning all the old questions by heart. He passed
- pretty well. What a happy day for his mother! They gave a grand
- dinner.</p>
-<p>Where should he go to practice? To Tostes, where there was only
- one old doctor. For a long time Madame Bovary had been on the
- look-out for his death, and the old fellow had barely been packed
- off when Charles was installed, opposite his place, as his
- successor.</p>
-<p>But it was not everything to have brought up a son, to have had
- him taught medicine, and discovered Tostes, where he could
- practice it; he must have a wife. She found him one--the widow of
- a bailiff at Dieppe--who was forty-five and had an income of
- twelve hundred francs. Though she was ugly, as dry as a bone, her
- face with as many pimples as the spring has buds, Madame Dubuc
- had no lack of suitors. To attain her ends Madame Bovary had to
- oust them all, and she even succeeded in very cleverly baffling
- the intrigues of a port-butcher backed up by the priests.</p>
-<p>Charles had seen in marriage the advent of an easier life,
- thinking he would be more free to do as he liked with himself and
- his money. But his wife was master; he had to say this and not
- say that in company, to fast every Friday, dress as she liked,
- harass at her bidding those patients who did not pay. She opened
- his letter, watched his comings and goings, and listened at the
- partition-wall when women came to consult him in his surgery.</p>
-<p>She must have her chocolate every morning, attentions without end. She constantly
- complained of her nerves, her chest, her liver. The noise of footsteps made
- her ill; when people left her, solitude became odious to her; if they came back,
- it was doubtless to see her die. When Charles returned in the evening, she stretched
- forth two long thin arms from beneath the sheets, put them round his neck, and
- having made him sit down on the edge of the bed, began to talk to him of her
- troubles: he was neglecting her, he loved another. She had been warned she would
- be unhappy; and she ended by asking him for a dose of medicine and a little
- more love.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Two</h3>
-<p>One night towards eleven o'clock they were awakened by the noise
- of a horse pulling up outside their door. The servant opened the
- garret-window and parleyed for some time with a man in the street
- below. He came for the doctor, had a letter for him. Natasie came
- downstairs shivering and undid the bars and bolts one after the
- other. The man left his horse, and, following the servant,
- suddenly came in behind her. He pulled out from his wool cap with
- grey top-knots a letter wrapped up in a rag and presented it
- gingerly to Charles, who rested on his elbow on the pillow to
- read it. Natasie, standing near the bed, held the light. Madame
- in modesty had turned to the wall and showed only her back.</p>
-<p>This letter, sealed with a small seal in blue wax, begged Monsieur Bovary to
- come immediately to the farm of the Bertaux to set a broken leg. Now from Tostes
- to the Bertaux was a good eighteen miles across country by way of Longueville
- and Saint-Victor. It was a dark night; Madame Bovary junior was afraid of accidents
- for her husband. So it was decided the stable-boy should go on first; Charles
- would start three hours later when the moon rose. A boy was to be sent to meet
- him, and show him the way to the farm, and open the gates for him. </p>
-<p>Towards four o'clock in the morning, Charles, well wrapped up in
- his cloak, set out for the Bertaux. Still sleepy from the warmth
- of his bed, he let himself be lulled by the quiet trot of his
- horse. When it stopped of its own accord in front of those holes
- surrounded with thorns that are dug on the margin of furrows,
- Charles awoke with a start, suddenly remembered the broken leg,
- and tried to call to mind all the fractures he knew. The rain had
- stopped, day was breaking, and on the branches of the leafless
- trees birds roosted motionless, their little feathers bristling
- in the cold morning wind. The flat country stretched as far as
- eye could see, and the tufts of trees round the farms at long
- intervals seemed like dark violet stains on the cast grey
- surface, that on the horizon faded into the gloom of the sky.</p>
-<p>Charles from time to time opened his eyes, his mind grew weary,
- and, sleep coming upon him, he soon fell into a doze wherein, his
- recent sensations blending with memories, he became conscious of
- a double self, at once student and married man, lying in his bed
- as but now, and crossing the operation theatre as of old. The
- warm smell of poultices mingled in his brain with the fresh odour
- of dew; he heard the iron rings rattling along the curtain-rods
- of the bed and saw his wife sleeping. As he passed Vassonville he
- came upon a boy sitting on the grass at the edge of a ditch.</p>
-<p>&quot;Are you the doctor?&quot; asked the child.</p>
-<p>And on Charles's answer he took his wooden shoes in his hands and
- ran on in front of him.</p>
-<p>The general practitioner, riding along, gathered from his guide's
- talk that Monsieur Rouault must be one of the well-to-do farmers.</p>
-<p>He had broken his leg the evening before on his way home from a
- Twelfth-night feast at a neighbour's. His wife had been dead for
- two years. There was with him only his daughter, who helped him
- to keep house.</p>
-<p>The ruts were becoming deeper; they were approaching the Bertaux.</p>
-<p>The little lad, slipping through a hole in the hedge,
- disappeared; then he came back to the end of a courtyard to open
- the gate. The horse slipped on the wet grass; Charles had to
- stoop to pass under the branches. The watchdogs in their kennels
- barked, dragging at their chains. As he entered the Bertaux, the
- horse took fright and stumbled.</p>
-<p>It was a substantial-looking farm. In the stables, over the top
- of the open doors, one could see great cart-horses quietly
- feeding from new racks. Right along the outbuildings extended a
- large dunghill, from which manure liquid oozed, while amidst
- fowls and turkeys, five or six peacocks, a luxury in Chauchois
- farmyards, were foraging on the top of it. The sheepfold was
- long, the barn high, with walls smooth as your hand. Under the
- cart-shed were two large carts and four ploughs, with their
- whips, shafts and harnesses complete, whose fleeces of blue wool
- were getting soiled by the fine dust that fell from the
- granaries. The courtyard sloped upwards, planted with trees set
- out symmetrically, and the chattering noise of a flock of geese
- was heard near the pond.</p>
-<p>A young woman in a blue merino dress with three flounces came to
- the threshold of the door to receive Monsieur Bovary, whom she
- led to the kitchen, where a large fire was blazing. The servant's
- breakfast was boiling beside it in small pots of all sizes. Some
- damp clothes were drying inside the chimney-corner. The shovel,
- tongs, and the nozzle of the bellows, all of colossal size, shone
- like polished steel, while along the walls hung many pots and
- pans in which the clear flame of the hearth, mingling with the
- first rays of the sun coming in through the window, was mirrored
- fitfully.</p>
-<p>Charles went up the first floor to see the patient. He found him
- in his bed, sweating under his bed-clothes, having thrown his
- cotton nightcap right away from him. He was a fat little man of
- fifty, with white skin and blue eyes, the forepart of his head
- bald, and he wore earrings. By his side on a chair stood a large
- decanter of brandy, whence he poured himself a little from time
- to time to keep up his spirits; but as soon as he caught sight of
- the doctor his elation subsided, and instead of swearing, as he
- had been doing for the last twelve hours, began to groan freely.</p>
-<p>The fracture was a simple one, without any kind of complication.</p>
-<p>Charles could not have hoped for an easier case. Then calling to
- mind the devices of his masters at the bedsides of patients, he
- comforted the sufferer with all sorts of kindly remarks, those
- Caresses of the surgeon that are like the oil they put on
- bistouries. In order to make some splints a bundle of laths was
- brought up from the cart-house. Charles selected one, cut it into
- two pieces and planed it with a fragment of windowpane, while the
- servant tore up sheets to make bandages, and Mademoiselle Emma
- tried to sew some pads. As she was a long time before she found
- her work-case, her father grew impatient; she did not answer, but
- as she sewed she pricked her fingers, which she then put to her
- mouth to suck them. Charles was surprised at the whiteness of her
- nails. They were shiny, delicate at the tips, more polished than
- the ivory of Dieppe, and almond-shaped. Yet her hand was not
- beautiful, perhaps not white enough, and a little hard at the
- knuckles; besides, it was too long, with no soft inflections in
- the outlines. Her real beauty was in her eyes. Although brown,
- they seemed black because of the lashes, and her look came at you
- frankly, with a candid boldness.</p>
-<p>The bandaging over, the doctor was invited by Monsieur Rouault
- himself to &quot;pick a bit&quot; before he left.</p>
-<p>Charles went down into the room on the ground floor. Knives and
- forks and silver goblets were laid for two on a little table at
- the foot of a huge bed that had a canopy of printed cotton with
- figures representing Turks. There was an odour of iris-root and
- damp sheets that escaped from a large oak chest opposite the
- window. On the floor in corners were sacks of flour stuck upright
- in rows. These were the overflow from the neighbouring granary,
- to which three stone steps led. By way of decoration for the
- apartment, hanging to a nail in the middle of the wall, whose
- green paint scaled off from the effects of the saltpetre, was a
- crayon head of Minerva in gold frame, underneath which was
- written in Gothic letters &quot;To dear Papa.&quot;</p>
-<p>First they spoke of the patient, then of the weather, of the
- great cold, of the wolves that infested the fields at night.</p>
-<p>Mademoiselle Rouault did not at all like the country, especially
- now that she had to look after the farm almost alone. As the room
- was chilly, she shivered as she ate. This showed something of her
- full lips, that she had a habit of biting when silent.</p>
-<p>Her neck stood out from a white turned-down collar. Her hair,
- whose two black folds seemed each of a single piece, so smooth
- were they, was parted in the middle by a delicate lie that curved
- slightly with the curve of the head; and, just showing the tip of
- the ear, it was joined behind in a thick chignon, with a wavy
- movement at the temples that the country doctor saw now for the
- first time in his life. The upper part of her cheek was
- rose-coloured. She had, like a man, thrust in between two buttons
- of her bodice a tortoise-shell eyeglass.</p>
-<p>When Charles, after bidding farewell to old Rouault, returned to
- the room before leaving, he found her standing, her forehead
- against the window, looking into the garden, where the bean props
- had been knocked down by the wind. She turned round. &quot;Are you
- looking for anything?&quot; she asked.</p>
-<p>&quot;My whip, if you please,&quot; he answered.</p>
-<p>He began rummaging on the bed, behind the doors, under the
- chairs. It had fallen to the floor, between the sacks and the
- wall. Mademoiselle Emma saw it, and bent over the flour sacks.</p>
-<p>Charles out of politeness made a dash also, and as he stretched
- out his arm, at the same moment felt his breast brush against the
- back of the young girl bending beneath him. She drew herself up,
- scarlet, and looked at him over her shoulder as she handed him
- his whip.</p>
-<p>Instead of returning to the Bertaux in three days as he had
- promised, he went back the very next day, then regularly twice a
- week, without counting the visits he paid now and then as if by
- accident.</p>
-<p>Everything, moreover, went well; the patient progressed
- favourably; and when, at the end of forty-six days, old Rouault
- was seen trying to walk alone in his &quot;den,&quot; Monsieur Bovary began
- to be looked upon as a man of great capacity. Old Rouault said
- that he could not have been cured better by the first doctor of
- Yvetot, or even of Rouen.</p>
-<p>As to Charles, he did not stop to ask himself why it was a
- pleasure to him to go to the Bertaux. Had he done so, he would,
- no doubt, have attributed his zeal to the importance of the case,
- or perhaps to the money he hoped to make by it. Was it for this,
- however, that his visits to the farm formed a delightful
- exception to the meagre occupations of his life? On these days he
- rose early, set off at a gallop, urging on his horse, then got
- down to wipe his boots in the grass and put on black gloves
- before entering. He liked going into the courtyard, and noticing
- the gate turn against his shoulder, the cock crow on the wall,
- the lads run to meet him. He liked the granary and the stables;
- he liked old Rouault, who pressed his hand and called him his
- saviour; he like the small wooden shoes of Mademoiselle Emma on
- the scoured flags of the kitchen--her high heels made her a
- little taller; and when she walked in front of him, the wooden
- soles springing up quickly struck with a sharp sound against the
- leather of her boots.</p>
-<p>She always accompanied him to the first step of the stairs. When
- his horse had not yet been brought round she stayed there. They
- had said &quot;Good-bye&quot;; there was no more talking. The open air
- wrapped her round, playing with the soft down on the back of her
- neck, or blew to and fro on her hips the apron-strings, that
- fluttered like streamers. Once, during a thaw the bark of the
- trees in the yard was oozing, the snow on the roofs of the
- outbuildings was melting; she stood on the threshold, and went to
- fetch her sunshade and opened it. The sunshade of silk of the
- colour of pigeons' breasts, through which the sun shone, lighted
- up with shifting hues the white skin of her face. She smiled
- under the tender warmth, and drops of water could be heard
- falling one by one on the stretched silk.</p>
-<p>During the first period of Charles's visits to the Bertaux,
- Madame Bovary junior never failed to inquire after the invalid,
- and she had even chosen in the book that she kept on a system of
- double entry a clean blank page for Monsieur Rouault. But when
- she heard he had a daughter, she began to make inquiries, and she
- learnt the Mademoiselle Rouault, brought up at the Ursuline
- Convent, had received what is called &quot;a good education&quot;; and so
- knew dancing, geography, drawing, how to embroider and play the
- piano. That was the last straw.</p>
-<p>&quot;So it is for this,&quot; she said to herself, &quot;that his face beams
- when he goes to see her, and that he puts on his new waistcoat at
- the risk of spoiling it with the rain. Ah! that woman! That
- woman!&quot;</p>
-<p>And she detested her instinctively. At first she solaced herself
- by allusions that Charles did not understand, then by casual
- observations that he let pass for fear of a storm, finally by
- open apostrophes to which he knew not what to answer. &quot;Why did he
- go back to the Bertaux now that Monsieur Rouault was cured and
- that these folks hadn't paid yet? Ah! it was because a young lady
- was there, some one who know how to talk, to embroider, to be
- witty. That was what he cared about; he wanted town misses.&quot; And
- she went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;The daughter of old Rouault a town miss! Get out! Their
- grandfather was a shepherd, and they have a cousin who was almost
- had up at the assizes for a nasty blow in a quarrel. It is not
- worth while making such a fuss, or showing herself at church on
- Sundays in a silk gown like a countess. Besides, the poor old
- chap, if it hadn't been for the colza last year, would have had
- much ado to pay up his arrears.&quot;</p>
-<p>For very weariness Charles left off going to the Bertaux. Heloise
- made him swear, his hand on the prayer-book, that he would go
- there no more after much sobbing and many kisses, in a great
- outburst of love. He obeyed then, but the strength of his desire
- protested against the servility of his conduct; and he thought,
- with a kind of naive hypocrisy, that his interdict to see her
- gave him a sort of right to love her. And then the widow was
- thin; she had long teeth; wore in all weathers a little black
- shawl, the edge of which hung down between her shoulder-blades;
- her bony figure was sheathed in her clothes as if they were a
- scabbard; they were too short, and displayed her ankles with the
- laces of her large boots crossed over grey stockings.</p>
-<p>Charles's mother came to see them from time to time, but after a
- few days the daughter-in-law seemed to put her own edge on her,
- and then, like two knives, they scarified him with their
- reflections and observations. It was wrong of him to eat so much.</p>
-<p>Why did he always offer a glass of something to everyone who
- came? What obstinacy not to wear flannels! In the spring it came
- about that a notary at Ingouville, the holder of the widow
- Dubuc's property, one fine day went off, taking with him all the
- money in his office. Heloise, it is true, still possessed,
- besides a share in a boat valued at six thousand francs, her
- house in the Rue St. Francois; and yet, with all this fortune
- that had been so trumpeted abroad, nothing, excepting perhaps a
- little furniture and a few clothes, had appeared in the
- household. The matter had to be gone into. The house at Dieppe
- was found to be eaten up with mortgages to its foundations; what
- she had placed with the notary God only knew, and her share in
- the boat did not exceed one thousand crowns. She had lied, the
- good lady! In his exasperation, Monsieur Bovary the elder,
- smashing a chair on the flags, accused his wife of having caused
- misfortune to the son by harnessing him to such a harridan, whose
- harness wasn't worth her hide. They came to Tostes. Explanations
- followed. There were scenes. Heloise in tears, throwing her arms
- about her husband, implored him to defend her from his parents.</p>
-<p>Charles tried to speak up for her. They grew angry and left the
- house.</p>
-<p>But &quot;the blow had struck home.&quot; A week after, as she was hanging
- up some washing in her yard, she was seized with a spitting of blood, and the
- next day, while Charles had his back turned to her drawing the window-curtain,
- she said, &quot;O God!&quot; gave a sigh and fainted. She was dead! What a surprise!
- When all was over at the cemetery Charles went home. He found no one downstairs;
- he went up to the first floor to their room; say her dress still hanging at
- the foot of the alcove; then, leaning against the writing-table, he stayed until
- the evening, buried in a sorrowful reverie. She had loved him after all!</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Three</h3>
-<p>One morning old Rouault brought Charles the money for setting his
- leg--seventy-five francs in forty-sou pieces, and a turkey. He
- had heard of his loss, and consoled him as well as he could.</p>
-<p>&quot;I know what it is,&quot; said he, clapping him on the shoulder; &quot;I've
- been through it. When I lost my dear departed, I went into the
- fields to be quite alone. I fell at the foot of a tree; I cried;
- I called on God; I talked nonsense to Him. I wanted to be like
- the moles that I saw on the branches, their insides swarming with
- worms, dead, and an end of it. And when I thought that there were
- others at that very moment with their nice little wives holding
- them in their embrace, I struck great blows on the earth with my
- stick. I was pretty well mad with not eating; the very idea of
- going to a cafe disgusted me--you wouldn't believe it. Well,
- quite softly, one day following another, a spring on a winter,
- and an autumn after a summer, this wore away, piece by piece,
- crumb by crumb; it passed away, it is gone, I should say it has
- sunk; for something always remains at the bottom as one would
- say--a weight here, at one's heart. But since it is the lot of
- all of us, one must not give way altogether, and, because others
- have died, want to die too. You must pull yourself together,
- Monsieur Bovary. It will pass away. Come to see us; my daughter
- thinks of you now and again, d'ye know, and she says you are
- forgetting her. Spring will soon be here. We'll have some
- rabbit-shooting in the warrens to amuse you a bit.&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles followed his advice. He went back to the Bertaux. He found all as he
- had left it, that is to say, as it was five months ago. The pear trees were
- already in blossom, and Farmer Rouault, on his legs again, came and went, making
- the farm more full of life.</p>
-<p>Thinking it his duty to heap the greatest attention upon the
- doctor because of his sad position, he begged him not to take his
- hat off, spoke to him in an undertone as if he had been ill, and
- even pretended to be angry because nothing rather lighter had
- been prepared for him than for the others, such as a little
- clotted cream or stewed pears. He told stories. Charles found
- himself laughing, but the remembrance of his wife suddenly coming
- back to him depressed him. Coffee was brought in; he thought no
- more about her.</p>
-<p>He thought less of her as he grew accustomed to living alone. The
- new delight of independence soon made his loneliness bearable. He
- could now change his meal-times, go in or out without
- explanation, and when he was very tired stretch himself at full
- length on his bed. So he nursed and coddled himself and accepted
- the consolations that were offered him. On the other hand, the
- death of his wife had not served him ill in his business, since
- for a month people had been saying, &quot;The poor young man! what a
- loss!&quot; His name had been talked about, his practice had
- increased; and moreover, he could go to the Bertaux just as he
- liked. He had an aimless hope, and was vaguely happy; he thought
- himself better looking as he brushed his whiskers before the
- looking-glass.</p>
-<p>One day he got there about three o'clock. Everybody was in the
- fields. He went into the kitchen, but did not at once catch sight
- of Emma; the outside shutters were closed. Through the chinks of
- the wood the sun sent across the flooring long fine rays that
- were broken at the corners of the furniture and trembled along
- the ceiling. Some flies on the table were crawling up the glasses
- that had been used, and buzzing as they drowned themselves in the
- dregs of the cider. The daylight that came in by the chimney made
- velvet of the soot at the back of the fireplace, and touched with
- blue the cold cinders. Between the window and the hearth Emma was
- sewing; she wore no fichu; he could see small drops of
- perspiration on her bare shoulders.</p>
-<p>After the fashion of country folks she asked him to have
- something to drink. He said no; she insisted, and at last
- laughingly offered to have a glass of liqueur with him. So she
- went to fetch a bottle of curacao from the cupboard, reached down
- two small glasses, filled one to the brim, poured scarcely
- anything into the other, and, after having clinked glasses,
- carried hers to her mouth. As it was almost empty she bent back
- to drink, her head thrown back, her lips pouting, her neck on the
- strain. She laughed at getting none of it, while with the tip of
- her tongue passing between her small teeth she licked drop by
- drop the bottom of her glass.</p>
-<p>She sat down again and took up her work, a white cotton stocking
- she was darning. She worked with her head bent down; she did not
- speak, nor did Charles. The air coming in under the door blew a
- little dust over the flags; he watched it drift along, and heard
- nothing but the throbbing in his head and the faint clucking of a
- hen that had laid an egg in the yard. Emma from time to time
- cooled her cheeks with the palms of her hands, and cooled these
- again on the knobs of the huge fire-dogs.</p>
-<p>She complained of suffering since the beginning of the season
- from giddiness; she asked if sea-baths would do her any good; she
- began talking of her convent, Charles of his school; words came
- to them. They went up into her bedroom. She showed him her old
- music-books, the little prizes she had won, and the oak-leaf
- crowns, left at the bottom of a cupboard. She spoke to him, too,
- of her mother, of the country, and even showed him the bed in the
- garden where, on the first Friday of every month, she gathered
- flowers to put on her mother's tomb. But the gardener they had
- never knew anything about it; servants are so stupid! She would
- have dearly liked, if only for the winter, to live in town,
- although the length of the fine days made the country perhaps
- even more wearisome in the summer. And, according to what she was
- saying, her voice was clear, sharp, or, on a sudden all languor,
- drawn out in modulations that ended almost in murmurs as she
- spoke to herself, now joyous, opening big naive eyes, then with
- her eyelids half closed, her look full of boredom, her thoughts
- wandering.</p>
-<p>Going home at night, Charles went over her words one by one,
- trying to recall them, to fill out their sense, that he might
- piece out the life she had lived before he knew her. But he never
- saw her in his thoughts other than he had seen her the first
- time, or as he had just left her. Then he asked himself what
- would become of her--if she would be married, and to whom! Alas!
- Old Rouault was rich, and she!--so beautiful! But Emma's face
- always rose before his eyes, and a monotone, like the humming of
- a top, sounded in his ears, &quot;If you should marry after all! If
- you should marry!&quot; At night he could not sleep; his throat was
- parched; he was athirst. He got up to drink from the water-bottle
- and opened the window. The night was covered with stars, a warm
- wind blowing in the distance; the dogs were barking. He turned
- his head towards the Bertaux.</p>
-<p>Thinking that, after all, he should lose nothing, Charles
- promised himself to ask her in marriage as soon as occasion
- offered, but each time such occasion did offer the fear of not
- finding the right words sealed his lips.</p>
-<p>Old Rouault would not have been sorry to be rid of his daughter,
- who was of no use to him in the house. In his heart he excused
- her, thinking her too clever for farming, a calling under the ban
- of Heaven, since one never saw a millionaire in it. Far from
- having made a fortune by it, the good man was losing every year;
- for if he was good in bargaining, in which he enjoyed the dodges
- of the trade, on the other hand, agriculture properly so called,
- and the internal management of the farm, suited him less than
- most people. He did not willingly take his hands out of his
- pockets, and did not spare expense in all that concerned himself,
- liking to eat well, to have good fires, and to sleep well. He
- liked old cider, underdone legs of mutton, glorias* well beaten
- up. He took his meals in the kitchen alone, opposite the fire, on
- a little table brought to him all ready laid as on the stage.</p>
-<p>*A mixture of coffee and spirits.</p>
-<p>When, therefore, he perceived that Charles's cheeks grew red if
- near his daughter, which meant that he would propose for her one
- of these days, he chewed the cud of the matter beforehand. He
- certainly thought him a little meagre, and not quite the
- son-in-law he would have liked, but he was said to be well
- brought-up, economical, very learned, and no doubt would not make
- too many difficulties about the dowry. Now, as old Rouault would
- soon be forced to sell twenty-two acres of &quot;his property,&quot;
- as he owed a good deal to the mason, to the harness-maker, and as
- the shaft of the cider-press wanted renewing, &quot;If he asks for
- her,&quot; he said to himself, &quot;I'll give her to him.&quot;</p>
-<p>At Michaelmas Charles went to spend three days at the Bertaux.</p>
-<p>The last had passed like the others in procrastinating from hour
- to hour. Old Rouault was seeing him off; they were walking along
- the road full of ruts; they were about to part. This was the
- time. Charles gave himself as far as to the corner of the hedge,
- and at last, when past it--</p>
-<p>&quot;Monsieur Rouault,&quot; he murmured, &quot;I should like to say something
- to you.&quot;</p>
-<p>They stopped. Charles was silent.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, tell me your story. Don't I know all about it?&quot; said old
- Rouault, laughing softly.</p>
-<p>&quot;Monsieur Rouault--Monsieur Rouault,&quot; stammered Charles.</p>
-<p>&quot;I ask nothing better&quot;, the farmer went on. &quot;Although, no doubt,
- the little one is of my mind, still we must ask her opinion. So
- you get off--I'll go back home. If it is &quot;yes&quot;, you needn't
- return because of all the people about, and besides it would
- upset her too much. But so that you mayn't be eating your heart,
- I'll open wide the outer shutter of the window against the wall;
- you can see it from the back by leaning over the hedge.&quot;</p>
-<p>And he went off.</p>
-<p>Charles fastened his horse to a tree; he ran into the road and
- waited. Half an hour passed, then he counted nineteen minutes by
- his watch. Suddenly a noise was heard against the wall; the
- shutter had been thrown back; the hook was still swinging.</p>
-<p>The next day by nine o'clock he was at the farm. Emma blushed as
- he entered, and she gave a little forced laugh to keep herself in
- countenance. Old Rouault embraced his future son-in-law. The
- discussion of money matters was put off; moreover, there was
- plenty of time before them, as the marriage could not decently
- take place till Charles was out of mourning, that is to say,
- about the spring of the next year.</p>
-<p>The winter passed waiting for this. Mademoiselle Rouault was busy
- with her trousseau. Part of it was ordered at Rouen, and she made
- herself chemises and nightcaps after fashion-plates that she
- borrowed. When Charles visited the farmer, the preparations for
- the wedding were talked over; they wondered in what room they
- should have dinner; they dreamed of the number of dishes that
- would be wanted, and what should be entrees.</p>
-<p>Emma would, on the contrary, have preferred to have a midnight wedding with
- torches, but old Rouault could not understand such an idea. So there was a wedding
- at which forty-three persons were present, at which they remained sixteen hours
- at table, began again the next day, and to some extent on the days following.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Four</h3>
-<p>The guests arrived early in carriages, in one-horse chaises,
- two-wheeled cars, old open gigs, waggonettes with leather hoods,
- and the young people from the nearer villages in carts, in which
- they stood up in rows, holding on to the sides so as not to fall,
- going at a trot and well shaken up. Some came from a distance of
- thirty miles, from Goderville, from Normanville, and from Cany.</p>
-<p>All the relatives of both families had been invited, quarrels
- between friends arranged, acquaintances long since lost sight of
- written to.</p>
-<p>From time to time one heard the crack of a whip behind the hedge;
- then the gates opened, a chaise entered. Galloping up to the foot
- of the steps, it stopped short and emptied its load. They got
- down from all sides, rubbing knees and stretching arms. The
- ladies, wearing bonnets, had on dresses in the town fashion, gold
- watch chains, pelerines with the ends tucked into belts, or
- little coloured fichus fastened down behind with a pin, and that
- left the back of the neck bare. The lads, dressed like their
- papas, seemed uncomfortable in their new clothes (many that day
- hand-sewed their first pair of boots), and by their sides,
- speaking never a work, wearing the white dress of their first
- communion lengthened for the occasion were some big girls of
- fourteen or sixteen, cousins or elder sisters no doubt, rubicund,
- bewildered, their hair greasy with rose pomade, and very much
- afraid of dirtying their gloves. As there were not enough
- stable-boys to unharness all the carriages, the gentlemen turned
- up their sleeves and set about it themselves. According to their
- different social positions they wore tail-coats, overcoats,
- shooting jackets, cutaway-coats; fine tail-coats, redolent of
- family respectability, that only came out of the wardrobe on
- state occasions; overcoats with long tails flapping in the wind
- and round capes and pockets like sacks; shooting jackets of
- coarse cloth, generally worn with a cap with a brass-bound peak;
- very short cutaway-coats with two small buttons in the back,
- close together like a pair of eyes, and the tails of which seemed
- cut out of one piece by a carpenter's hatchet. Some, too (but
- these, you may be sure, would sit at the bottom of the table),
- wore their best blouses--that is to say, with collars turned down
- to the shoulders, the back gathered into small plaits and the
- waist fastened very low down with a worked belt.</p>
-<p>And the shirts stood out from the chests like cuirasses! Everyone
- had just had his hair cut; ears stood out from the heads; they
- had been close-shaved; a few, even, who had had to get up before
- daybreak, and not been able to see to shave, had diagonal gashes
- under their noses or cuts the size of a three-franc piece along
- the jaws, which the fresh air en route had enflamed, so that the
- great white beaming faces were mottled here and there with red
- dabs.</p>
-<p>The mairie was a mile and a half from the farm, and they went
- thither on foot, returning in the same way after the ceremony in
- the church. The procession, first united like one long coloured
- scarf that undulated across the fields, along the narrow path
- winding amid the green corn, soon lengthened out, and broke up
- into different groups that loitered to talk. The fiddler walked
- in front with his violin, gay with ribbons at its pegs. Then came
- the married pair, the relations, the friends, all following
- pell-mell; the children stayed behind amusing themselves plucking
- the bell-flowers from oat-ears, or playing amongst themselves
- unseen. Emma's dress, too long, trailed a little on the ground;
- from time to time she stopped to pull it up, and then delicately,
- with her gloved hands, she picked off the coarse grass and the
- thistledowns, while Charles, empty handed, waited till she had
- finished. Old Rouault, with a new silk hat and the cuffs of his
- black coat covering his hands up to the nails, gave his arm to
- Madame Bovary senior. As to Monsieur Bovary senior, who, heartily
- despising all these folk, had come simply in a frock-coat of
- military cut with one row of buttons--he was passing compliments
- of the bar to a fair young peasant. She bowed, blushed, and did
- not know what to say. The other wedding guests talked of their
- business or played tricks behind each other's backs, egging one
- another on in advance to be jolly. Those who listened could
- always catch the squeaking of the fiddler, who went on playing
- across the fields. When he saw that the rest were far behind he
- stopped to take breath, slowly rosined his bow, so that the
- strings should sound more shrilly, then set off again, by turns
- lowering and raising his neck, the better to mark time for
- himself. The noise of the instrument drove away the little birds
- from afar.</p>
-<p>The table was laid under the cart-shed. On it were four sirloins,
- six chicken fricassees, stewed veal, three legs of mutton, and in
- the middle a fine roast suckling pig, flanked by four
- chitterlings with sorrel. At the corners were decanters of
- brandy. Sweet bottled-cider frothed round the corks, and all the
- glasses had been filled to the brim with wine beforehand. Large
- dishes of yellow cream, that trembled with the least shake of the
- table, had designed on their smooth surface the initials of the
- newly wedded pair in nonpareil arabesques. A confectioner of
- Yvetot had been intrusted with the tarts and sweets. As he had
- only just set up on the place, he had taken a lot of trouble, and
- at dessert he himself brought in a set dish that evoked loud
- cries of wonderment. To begin with, at its base there was a
- square of blue cardboard, representing a temple with porticoes,
- colonnades, and stucco statuettes all round, and in the niches
- constellations of gilt paper stars; then on the second stage was
- a dungeon of Savoy cake, surrounded by many fortifications in
- candied angelica, almonds, raisins, and quarters of oranges; and
- finally, on the upper platform a green field with rocks set in
- lakes of jam, nutshell boats, and a small Cupid balancing himself
- in a chocolate swing whose two uprights ended in real roses for
- balls at the top.</p>
-<p>Until night they ate. When any of them were too tired of sitting,
- they went out for a stroll in the yard, or for a game with corks
- in the granary, and then returned to table. Some towards the
- finish went to sleep and snored. But with the coffee everyone
- woke up. Then they began songs, showed off tricks, raised heavy
- weights, performed feats with their fingers, then tried lifting
- carts on their shoulders, made broad jokes, kissed the women. At
- night when they left, the horses, stuffed up to the nostrils with
- oats, could hardly be got into the shafts; they kicked, reared,
- the harness broke, their masters laughed or swore; and all night
- in the light of the moon along country roads there were runaway
- carts at full gallop plunging into the ditches, jumping over yard
- after yard of stones, clambering up the hills, with women leaning
- out from the tilt to catch hold of the reins.</p>
-<p>Those who stayed at the Bertaux spent the night drinking in the
- kitchen. The children had fallen asleep under the seats.</p>
-<p>The bride had begged her father to be spared the usual marriage
- pleasantries. However, a fishmonger, one of their cousins (who
- had even brought a pair of soles for his wedding present), began
- to squirt water from his mouth through the keyhole, when old
- Rouault came up just in time to stop him, and explain to him that
- the distinguished position of his son-in-law would not allow of
- such liberties. The cousin all the same did not give in to these
- reasons readily. In his heart he accused old Rouault of being
- proud, and he joined four or five other guests in a corner, who
- having, through mere chance, been several times running served
- with the worst helps of meat, also were of opinion they had been
- badly used, and were whispering about their host, and with
- covered hints hoping he would ruin himself.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary, senior, had not opened her mouth all day. She had
- been consulted neither as to the dress of her daughter-in-law nor
- as to the arrangement of the feast; she went to bed early. Her
- husband, instead of following her, sent to Saint-Victor for some
- cigars, and smoked till daybreak, drinking kirsch-punch, a
- mixture unknown to the company. This added greatly to the
- consideration in which he was held.</p>
-<p>Charles, who was not of a facetious turn, did not shine at the
- wedding. He answered feebly to the puns, doubles entendres*,
- compliments, and chaff that it was felt a duty to let off at him
- as soon as the soup appeared.</p>
-<p>*Double meanings.</p>
-<p>The next day, on the other hand, he seemed another man. It was he
- who might rather have been taken for the virgin of the evening
- before, whilst the bride gave no sign that revealed anything. The
- shrewdest did not know what to make of it, and they looked at her
- when she passed near them with an unbounded concentration of
- mind. But Charles concealed nothing. He called her &quot;my wife&quot;,
- tutoyed* her, asked for her of everyone, looked for her
- everywhere, and often he dragged her into the yards, where he
- could be seen from far between the trees, putting his arm around
- her waist, and walking half-bending over her, ruffling the
- chemisette of her bodice with his head.</p>
-<p>*Used the familiar form of address.</p>
-<p>Two days after the wedding the married pair left. Charles, on account of his
- patients, could not be away longer. Old Rouault had them driven back in his
- cart, and himself accompanied them as far as Vassonville. Here he embraced his
- daughter for the last time, got down, and went his way. When he had gone about
- a hundred paces he stopped, and as he saw the cart disappearing, its wheels
- turning in the dust, he gave a deep sigh. Then he remembered his wedding, the
- old times, the first pregnancy of his wife; he, too, had been very happy the
- day when he had taken her from her father to his home, and had carried her off
- on a pillion, trotting through the snow, for it was near Christmas-time, and
- the country was all white. She held him by one arm, her basket hanging from
- the other; the wind blew the long lace of her Cauchois headdress so that it
- sometimes flapped across his mouth, and when he turned his head he saw near
- him, on his shoulder, her little rosy face, smiling silently under the gold
- bands of her cap. To warm her hands she put them from time to time in his breast.
- How long ago it all was! Their son would have been thirty by now. Then he looked
- back and saw nothing on the road. He felt dreary as an empty house; and tender
- memories mingling with the sad thoughts in his brain, addled by the fumes of
- the feast, he felt inclined for a moment to take a turn towards the church.
- As he was afraid, however, that this sight would make him yet more sad, he went
- right away home. </p>
-<p>Monsieur and Madame Charles arrived at Tostes about six o'clock.</p>
-<p>The neighbors came to the windows to see their doctor's new wife.</p>
-<p>The old servant presented herself, curtsied to her, apologised for not having
- dinner ready, and suggested that madame, in the meantime, should look over her
- house.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Five</h3>
-<p>The brick front was just in a line with the street, or rather the
- road. Behind the door hung a cloak with a small collar, a bridle,
- and a black leather cap, and on the floor, in a corner, were a
- pair of leggings, still covered with dry mud. On the right was
- the one apartment, that was both dining and sitting room. A
- canary yellow paper, relieved at the top by a garland of pale
- flowers, was puckered everywhere over the badly stretched canvas;
- white calico curtains with a red border hung crossways at the
- length of the window; and on the narrow mantelpiece a clock with
- a head of Hippocrates shone resplendent between two plate
- candlesticks under oval shades. On the other side of the passage
- was Charles's consulting room, a little room about six paces
- wide, with a table, three chairs, and an office chair. Volumes of
- the &quot;Dictionary of Medical Science,&quot; uncut, but the binding
- rather the worse for the successive sales through which they had
- gone, occupied almost along the six shelves of a deal bookcase.</p>
-<p>The smell of melted butter penetrated through the walls when he
- saw patients, just as in the kitchen one could hear the people
- coughing in the consulting room and recounting their histories.</p>
-<p>Then, opening on the yard, where the stable was, came a large
- dilapidated room with a stove, now used as a wood-house, cellar,
- and pantry, full of old rubbish, of empty casks, agricultural
- implements past service, and a mass of dusty things whose use it
- was impossible to guess.</p>
-<p>The garden, longer than wide, ran between two mud walls with
- espaliered apricots, to a hawthorn hedge that separated it from
- the field. In the middle was a slate sundial on a brick pedestal;
- four flower beds with eglantines surrounded symmetrically the
- more useful kitchen garden bed. Right at the bottom, under the
- spruce bushes, was a cure in plaster reading his breviary.</p>
-<p>Emma went upstairs. The first room was not furnished, but in the
- second, which was their bedroom, was a mahogany bedstead in an
- alcove with red drapery. A shell box adorned the chest of
- drawers, and on the secretary near the window a bouquet of orange
- blossoms tied with white satin ribbons stood in a bottle. It was
- a bride's bouquet; it was the other one's. She looked at it.
- Charles noticed it; he took it and carried it up to the attic,
- while Emma seated in an arm-chair (they were putting her things
- down around her) thought of her bridal flowers packed up in a
- bandbox, and wondered, dreaming, what would be done with them if
- she were to die.</p>
-<p>During the first days she occupied herself in thinking about
- changes in the house. She took the shades off the candlesticks,
- had new wallpaper put up, the staircase repainted, and seats made
- in the garden round the sundial; she even inquired how she could
- get a basin with a jet fountain and fishes. Finally her husband,
- knowing that she liked to drive out, picked up a second-hand
- dogcart, which, with new lamps and splashboard in striped
- leather, looked almost like a tilbury.</p>
-<p>He was happy then, and without a care in the world. A meal
- together, a walk in the evening on the highroad, a gesture of her
- hands over her hair, the sight of her straw hat hanging from the
- window-fastener, and many another thing in which Charles had
- never dreamed of pleasure, now made up the endless round of his
- happiness. In bed, in the morning, by her side, on the pillow, he
- watched the sunlight sinking into the down on her fair cheek,
- half hidden by the lappets of her night-cap. Seen thus closely,
- her eyes looked to him enlarged, especially when, on waking up,
- she opened and shut them rapidly many times. Black in the shade,
- dark blue in broad daylight, they had, as it were, depths of
- different colours, that, darker in the centre, grew paler towards
- the surface of the eye. His own eyes lost themselves in these
- depths; he saw himself in miniature down to the shoulders, with
- his handkerchief round his head and the top of his shirt open. He
- rose. She came to the window to see him off, and stayed leaning
- on the sill between two pots of geranium, clad in her dressing
- gown hanging loosely about her. Charles, in the street buckled
- his spurs, his foot on the mounting stone, while she talked to
- him from above, picking with her mouth some scrap of flower or
- leaf that she blew out at him. Then this, eddying, floating,
- described semicircles in the air like a bird, and was caught
- before it reached the ground in the ill-groomed mane of the old
- white mare standing motionless at the door. Charles from
- horseback threw her a kiss; she answered with a nod; she shut the
- window, and he set off. And then along the highroad, spreading
- out its long ribbon of dust, along the deep lanes that the trees
- bent over as in arbours, along paths where the corn reached to
- the knees, with the sun on his back and the morning air in his
- nostrils, his heart full of the joys of the past night, his mind
- at rest, his flesh at ease, he went on, re-chewing his happiness,
- like those who after dinner taste again the truffles which they
- are digesting.</p>
-<p>Until now what good had he had of his life? His time at school,
- when he remained shut up within the high walls, alone, in the
- midst of companions richer than he or cleverer at their work, who
- laughed at his accent, who jeered at his clothes, and whose
- mothers came to the school with cakes in their muffs? Later on,
- when he studied medicine, and never had his purse full enough to
- treat some little work-girl who would have become his mistress?
- Afterwards, he had lived fourteen months with the widow, whose
- feet in bed were cold as icicles. But now he had for life this
- beautiful woman whom he adored. For him the universe did not
- extend beyond the circumference of her petticoat, and he
- reproached himself with not loving her. He wanted to see her
- again; he turned back quickly, ran up the stairs with a beating
- heart. Emma, in her room, was dressing; he came up on tiptoe,
- kissed her back; she gave a cry.</p>
-<p>He could not keep from constantly touching her comb, her ring,
- her fichu; sometimes he gave her great sounding kisses with all
- his mouth on her cheeks, or else little kisses in a row all along
- her bare arm from the tip of her fingers up to her shoulder, and
- she put him away half-smiling, half-vexed, as you do a child who
- hangs about you.</p>
-<p>Before marriage she thought herself in love; but the happiness that should
- have followed this love not having come, she must, she thought, have been mistaken.
- And Emma tried to find out what one meant exactly in life by the words felicity,
- passion, rapture, that had seemed to her so beautiful in books.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Six</h3>
-<p>She had read &quot;Paul and Virginia,&quot; and she had dreamed of the
- little bamboo-house, the nigger Domingo, the dog Fiddle, but
- above all of the sweet friendship of some dear little brother,
- who seeks red fruit for you on trees taller than steeples, or who
- runs barefoot over the sand, bringing you a bird's nest.</p>
-<p>When she was thirteen, her father himself took her to town to
- place her in the convent. They stopped at an inn in the St.
- Gervais quarter, where, at their supper, they used painted plates
- that set forth the story of Mademoiselle de la Valliere. The
- explanatory legends, chipped here and there by the scratching of
- knives, all glorified religion, the tendernesses of the heart,
- and the pomps of court.</p>
-<p>Far from being bored at first at the convent, she took pleasure
- in the society of the good sisters, who, to amuse her, took her
- to the chapel, which one entered from the refectory by a long
- corridor. She played very little during recreation hours, knew
- her catechism well, and it was she who always answered Monsieur
- le Vicaire's difficult questions. Living thus, without every
- leaving the warm atmosphere of the classrooms, and amid these
- pale-faced women wearing rosaries with brass crosses, she was
- softly lulled by the mystic languor exhaled in the perfumes of
- the altar, the freshness of the holy water, and the lights of the
- tapers. Instead of attending to mass, she looked at the pious
- vignettes with their azure borders in her book, and she loved the
- sick lamb, the sacred heart pierced with sharp arrows, or the
- poor Jesus sinking beneath the cross he carries. She tried, by
- way of mortification, to eat nothing a whole day. She puzzled her
- head to find some vow to fulfil.</p>
-<p>When she went to confession, she invented little sins in order
- that she might stay there longer, kneeling in the shadow, her
- hands joined, her face against the grating beneath the whispering
- of the priest. The comparisons of betrothed, husband, celestial
- lover, and eternal marriage, that recur in sermons, stirred
- within her soul depths of unexpected sweetness.</p>
-<p>In the evening, before prayers, there was some religious reading
- in the study. On week-nights it was some abstract of sacred
- history or the Lectures of the Abbe Frayssinous, and on Sundays
- passages from the &quot;Genie du Christianisme,&quot; as a recreation. How
- she listened at first to the sonorous lamentations of its
- romantic melancholies reechoing through the world and eternity!
- If her childhood had been spent in the shop-parlour of some
- business quarter, she might perhaps have opened her heart to
- those lyrical invasions of Nature, which usually come to us only
- through translation in books. But she knew the country too well;
- she knew the lowing of cattle, the milking, the ploughs.</p>
-<p>Accustomed to calm aspects of life, she turned, on the contrary,
- to those of excitement. She loved the sea only for the sake of
- its storms, and the green fields only when broken up by ruins.</p>
-<p>She wanted to get some personal profit out of things, and she
- rejected as useless all that did not contribute to the immediate
- desires of her heart, being of a temperament more sentimental
- than artistic, looking for emotions, not landscapes.</p>
-<p>At the convent there was an old maid who came for a week each
- month to mend the linen. Patronized by the clergy, because she
- belonged to an ancient family of noblemen ruined by the
- Revolution, she dined in the refectory at the table of the good
- sisters, and after the meal had a bit of chat with them before
- going back to her work. The girls often slipped out from the
- study to go and see her. She knew by heart the love songs of the
- last century, and sang them in a low voice as she stitched away.</p>
-<p>She told stories, gave them news, went errands in the town, and
- on the sly lent the big girls some novel, that she always carried
- in the pockets of her apron, and of which the good lady herself
- swallowed long chapters in the intervals of her work. They were
- all love, lovers, sweethearts, persecuted ladies fainting in
- lonely pavilions, postilions killed at every stage, horses ridden
- to death on every page, sombre forests, heartaches, vows, sobs,
- tears and kisses, little skiffs by moonlight, nightingales in
- shady groves, &quot;gentlemen&quot; brave as lions, gentle as lambs,
- virtuous as no one ever was, always well dressed, and weeping
- like fountains. For six months, then, Emma, at fifteen years of
- age, made her hands dirty with books from old lending libraries.</p>
-<p>Through Walter Scott, later on, she fell in love with historical
- events, dreamed of old chests, guard-rooms and minstrels. She
- would have liked to live in some old manor-house, like those
- long-waisted chatelaines who, in the shade of pointed arches,
- spent their days leaning on the stone, chin in hand, watching a
- cavalier with white plume galloping on his black horse from the
- distant fields. At this time she had a cult for Mary Stuart and
- enthusiastic veneration for illustrious or unhappy women. Joan of
- Arc, Heloise, Agnes Sorel, the beautiful Ferroniere, and Clemence
- Isaure stood out to her like comets in the dark immensity of
- heaven, where also were seen, lost in shadow, and all
- unconnected, St. Louis with his oak, the dying Bayard, some
- cruelties of Louis XI, a little of St. Bartholomew's Day, the
- plume of the Bearnais, and always the remembrance of the plates
- painted in honour of Louis XIV.</p>
-<p>In the music class, in the ballads she sang, there was nothing
- but little angels with golden wings, madonnas, lagunes,
- gondoliers;-mild compositions that allowed her to catch a glimpse
- athwart the obscurity of style and the weakness of the music of
- the attractive phantasmagoria of sentimental realities. Some of
- her companions brought &quot;keepsakes&quot; given them as new year's gifts
- to the convent. These had to be hidden; it was quite an
- undertaking; they were read in the dormitory. Delicately handling
- the beautiful satin bindings, Emma looked with dazzled eyes at
- the names of the unknown authors, who had signed their verses for
- the most part as counts or viscounts.</p>
-<p>She trembled as she blew back the tissue paper over the engraving
- and saw it folded in two and fall gently against the page. Here
- behind the balustrade of a balcony was a young man in a short
- cloak, holding in his arms a young girl in a white dress wearing
- an alms-bag at her belt; or there were nameless portraits of
- English ladies with fair curls, who looked at you from under
- their round straw hats with their large clear eyes. Some there
- were lounging in their carriages, gliding through parks, a
- greyhound bounding along in front of the equipage driven at a
- trot by two midget postilions in white breeches. Others, dreaming
- on sofas with an open letter, gazed at the moon through a
- slightly open window half draped by a black curtain. The naive
- ones, a tear on their cheeks, were kissing doves through the bars
- of a Gothic cage, or, smiling, their heads on one side, were
- plucking the leaves of a marguerite with their taper fingers,
- that curved at the tips like peaked shoes. And you, too, were
- there, Sultans with long pipes reclining beneath arbours in the
- arms of Bayaderes; Djiaours, Turkish sabres, Greek caps; and you
- especially, pale landscapes of dithyrambic lands, that often show
- us at once palm trees and firs, tigers on the right, a lion to
- the left, Tartar minarets on the horizon; the whole framed by a
- very neat virgin forest, and with a great perpendicular sunbeam
- trembling in the water, where, standing out in relief like white
- excoriations on a steel-grey ground, swans are swimming about.</p>
-<p>And the shade of the argand lamp fastened to the wall above
- Emma's head lighted up all these pictures of the world, that
- passed before her one by one in the silence of the dormitory, and
- to the distant noise of some belated carriage rolling over the
- Boulevards.</p>
-<p>When her mother died she cried much the first few days. She had a funeral picture
- made with the hair of the deceased, and, in a letter sent to the Bertaux full
- of sad reflections on life, she asked to be buried later on in the same grave.
- The goodman thought she must be ill, and came to see her. Emma was secretly
- pleased that she had reached at a first attempt the rare ideal of pale lives,
- never attained by mediocre hearts. She let herself glide along with Lamartine
- meanderings, listened to harps on lakes, to all the songs of dying swans, to
- the falling of the leaves, the pure virgins ascending to heaven, and the voice
- of the Eternal discoursing down the valleys. She wearied of it, would not confess
- it, continued from habit, and at last was surprised to feel herself soothed,
- and with no more sadness at heart than wrinkles on her brow.</p>
-<p>The good nuns, who had been so sure of her vocation, perceived
- with great astonishment that Mademoiselle Rouault seemed to be
- slipping from them. They had indeed been so lavish to her of
- prayers, retreats, novenas, and sermons, they had so often
- preached the respect due to saints and martyrs, and given so much
- good advice as to the modesty of the body and the salvation of
- her soul, that she did as tightly reined horses; she pulled up
- short and the bit slipped from her teeth. This nature, positive
- in the midst of its enthusiasms, that had loved the church for
- the sake of the flowers, and music for the words of the songs,
- and literature for its passional stimulus, rebelled against the
- mysteries of faith as it grew irritated by discipline, a thing
- antipathetic to her constitution. When her father took her from
- school, no one was sorry to see her go. The Lady Superior even
- thought that she had latterly been somewhat irreverent to the
- community.</p>
-<p>Emma, at home once more, first took pleasure in looking after the
- servants, then grew disgusted with the country and missed her
- convent. When Charles came to the Bertaux for the first time, she
- thought herself quite disillusioned, with nothing more to learn,
- and nothing more to feel.</p>
-<p>But the uneasiness of her new position, or perhaps the disturbance caused by
- the presence of this man, had sufficed to make her believe that she at last
- felt that wondrous passion which, till then, like a great bird with rose-coloured
- wings, hung in the splendour of the skies of poesy; and now she could not think
- that the calm in which she lived was the happiness she had dreamed.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Seven</h3>
-<p>She thought, sometimes, that, after all, this was the happiest
- time of her life--the honeymoon, as people called it. To taste
- the full sweetness of it, it would have been necessary doubtless
- to fly to those lands with sonorous names where the days after
- marriage are full of laziness most suave. In post chaises behind
- blue silken curtains to ride slowly up steep road, listening to
- the song of the postilion re-echoed by the mountains, along with
- the bells of goats and the muffled sound of a waterfall; at
- sunset on the shores of gulfs to breathe in the perfume of lemon
- trees; then in the evening on the villa-terraces above, hand in
- hand to look at the stars, making plans for the future. It seemed
- to her that certain places on earth must bring happiness, as a
- plant peculiar to the soil, and that cannot thrive elsewhere. Why
- could not she lean over balconies in Swiss chalets, or enshrine
- her melancholy in a Scotch cottage, with a husband dressed in a
- black velvet coat with long tails, and thin shoes, a pointed hat
- and frills? Perhaps she would have liked to confide all these
- things to someone. But how tell an undefinable uneasiness,
- variable as the clouds, unstable as the winds? Words failed
- her--the opportunity, the courage.</p>
-<p>If Charles had but wished it, if he had guessed it, if his look
- had but once met her thought, it seemed to her that a sudden
- plenty would have gone out from her heart, as the fruit falls
- from a tree when shaken by a hand. But as the intimacy of their
- life became deeper, the greater became the gulf that separated
- her from him.</p>
-<p>Charles's conversation was commonplace as a street pavement, and
- everyone's ideas trooped through it in their everyday garb,
- without exciting emotion, laughter, or thought. He had never had
- the curiosity, he said, while he lived at Rouen, to go to the
- theatre to see the actors from Paris. He could neither swim, nor
- fence, nor shoot, and one day he could not explain some term of
- horsemanship to her that she had come across in a novel.</p>
-<p>A man, on the contrary, should he not know everything, excel in
- manifold activities, initiate you into the energies of passion,
- the refinements of life, all mysteries? But this one taught
- nothing, knew nothing, wished nothing. He thought her happy; and
- she resented this easy calm, this serene heaviness, the very
- happiness she gave him.</p>
-<p>Sometimes she would draw; and it was great amusement to Charles
- to stand there bolt upright and watch her bend over her
- cardboard, with eyes half-closed the better to see her work, or
- rolling, between her fingers, little bread-pellets. As to the
- piano, the more quickly her fingers glided over it the more he
- wondered. She struck the notes with aplomb, and ran from top to
- bottom of the keyboard without a break. Thus shaken up, the old
- instrument, whose strings buzzed, could be heard at the other end
- of the village when the window was open, and often the bailiff's
- clerk, passing along the highroad bare-headed and in list
- slippers, stopped to listen, his sheet of paper in his hand.</p>
-<p>Emma, on the other hand, knew how to look after her house. She
- sent the patients' accounts in well-phrased letters that had no
- suggestion of a bill. When they had a neighbour to dinner on
- Sundays, she managed to have some tasty dish--piled up pyramids
- of greengages on vine leaves, served up preserves turned out into
- plates--and even spoke of buying finger-glasses for dessert. From
- all this much consideration was extended to Bovary.</p>
-<p>Charles finished by rising in his own esteem for possessing such
- a wife. He showed with pride in the sitting room two small pencil
- sketched by her that he had had framed in very large frames, and
- hung up against the wallpaper by long green cords. People
- returning from mass saw him at his door in his wool-work
- slippers.</p>
-<p>He came home late--at ten o'clock, at midnight sometimes. Then he
- asked for something to eat, and as the servant had gone to bed,
- Emma waited on him. He took off his coat to dine more at his
- ease. He told her, one after the other, the people he had met,
- the villages where he had been, the prescriptions ha had written,
- and, well pleased with himself, he finished the remainder of the
- boiled beef and onions, picked pieces off the cheese, munched an
- apple, emptied his water-bottle, and then went to bed, and lay on
- his back and snored.</p>
-<p>As he had been for a time accustomed to wear nightcaps, his
- handkerchief would not keep down over his ears, so that his hair
- in the morning was all tumbled pell-mell about his face and
- whitened with the feathers of the pillow, whose strings came
- untied during the night. He always wore thick boots that had two
- long creases over the instep running obliquely towards the ankle,
- while the rest of the upper continued in a straight line as if
- stretched on a wooden foot. He said that &quot;was quite good enough
- for the country.&quot;</p>
-<p>His mother approved of his economy, for she came to see him as
- formerly when there had been some violent row at her place; and
- yet Madame Bovary senior seemed prejudiced against her
- daughter-in-law. She thought &quot;her ways too fine for their
- position&quot;; the wood, the sugar, and the candles disappeared as
- &quot;at a grand establishment,&quot; and the amount of firing in the
- kitchen would have been enough for twenty-five courses. She put
- her linen in order for her in the presses, and taught her to keep
- an eye on the butcher when he brought the meat. Emma put up with
- these lessons. Madame Bovary was lavish of them; and the words
- &quot;daughter&quot; and &quot;mother&quot; were exchanged all day long, accompanied
- by little quiverings of the lips, each one uttering gentle words
- in a voice trembling with anger.</p>
-<p>In Madame Dubuc's time the old woman felt that she was still the
- favorite; but now the love of Charles for Emma seemed to her a
- desertion from her tenderness, an encroachment upon what was
- hers, and she watched her son's happiness in sad silence, as a
- ruined man looks through the windows at people dining in his old
- house. She recalled to him as remembrances her troubles and her
- sacrifices, and, comparing these with Emma's negligence, came to
- the conclusion that it was not reasonable to adore her so
- exclusively.</p>
-<p>Charles knew not what to answer: he respected his mother, and he
- loved his wife infinitely; he considered the judgment of the one
- infallible, and yet he thought the conduct of the other
- irreproachable. When Madam Bovary had gone, he tried timidly and
- in the same terms to hazard one or two of the more anodyne
- observations he had heard from his mamma. Emma proved to him with
- a word that he was mistaken, and sent him off to his patients.</p>
-<p>And yet, in accord with theories she believed right, she wanted
- to make herself in love with him. By moonlight in the garden she
- recited all the passionate rhymes she knew by heart, and,
- sighing, sang to him many melancholy adagios; but she found
- herself as calm after as before, and Charles seemed no more
- amorous and no more moved.</p>
-<p>When she had thus for a while struck the flint on her heart
- without getting a spark, incapable, moreover, of understanding
- what she did not experience as of believing anything that did not
- present itself in conventional forms, she persuaded herself
- without difficulty that Charles's passion was nothing very
- exorbitant. His outbursts became regular; he embraced her at
- certain fixed times. It was one habit among other habits, and,
- like a dessert, looked forward to after the monotony of dinner.</p>
-<p>A gamekeeper, cured by the doctor of inflammation of the lungs,
- had given madame a little Italian greyhound; she took her out
- walking, for she went out sometimes in order to be alone for a
- moment, and not to see before her eyes the eternal garden and the
- dusty road. She went as far as the beeches of Banneville, near
- the deserted pavilion which forms an angle of the wall on the
- side of the country. Amidst the vegetation of the ditch there are
- long reeds with leaves that cut you.</p>
-<p>She began by looking round her to see if nothing had changed
- since last she had been there. She found again in the same places
- the foxgloves and wallflowers, the beds of nettles growing round
- the big stones, and the patches of lichen along the three
- windows, whose shutters, always closed, were rotting away on
- their rusty iron bars. Her thoughts, aimless at first, wandered
- at random, like her greyhound, who ran round and round in the
- fields, yelping after the yellow butterflies, chasing the
- shrew-mice, or nibbling the poppies on the edge of a cornfield.</p>
-<p>Then gradually her ideas took definite shape, and, sitting on the
- grass that she dug up with little prods of her sunshade, Emma
- repeated to herself, &quot;Good heavens! Why did I marry?&quot;</p>
-<p>She asked herself if by some other chance combination it would
- have not been possible to meet another man; and she tried to
- imagine what would have been these unrealised events, this
- different life, this unknown husband. All, surely, could not be
- like this one. He might have been handsome, witty, distinguished,
- attractive, such as, no doubt, her old companions of the convent
- had married. What were they doing now? In town, with the noise of
- the streets, the buzz of the theatres and the lights of the
- ballroom, they were living lives where the heart expands, the
- senses bourgeon out. But she--her life was cold as a garret whose
- dormer window looks on the north, and ennui, the silent spider,
- was weaving its web in the darkness in every corner of her heart.</p>
-<p>She recalled the prize days, when she mounted the platform to
- receive her little crowns, with her hair in long plaits. In her
- white frock and open prunella shoes she had a pretty way, and
- when she went back to her seat, the gentlemen bent over her to
- congratulate her; the courtyard was full of carriages; farewells
- were called to her through their windows; the music master with
- his violin case bowed in passing by. How far all of this! How far
- away! She called Djali, took her between her knees, and smoothed
- the long delicate head, saying, &quot;Come, kiss mistress; you have no
- troubles.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then noting the melancholy face of the graceful animal, who
- yawned slowly, she softened, and comparing her to herself, spoke
- to her aloud as to somebody in trouble whom one is consoling.</p>
-<p>Occasionally there came gusts of winds, breezes from the sea
- rolling in one sweep over the whole plateau of the Caux country,
- which brought even to these fields a salt freshness. The rushes,
- close to the ground, whistled; the branches trembled in a swift
- rustling, while their summits, ceaselessly swaying, kept up a
- deep murmur. Emma drew her shawl round her shoulders and rose.</p>
-<p>In the avenue a green light dimmed by the leaves lit up the short
- moss that crackled softly beneath her feet. The sun was setting;
- the sky showed red between the branches, and the trunks of the
- trees, uniform, and planted in a straight line, seemed a brown
- colonnade standing out against a background of gold. A fear took
- hold of her; she called Djali, and hurriedly returned to Tostes
- by the high road, threw herself into an armchair, and for the
- rest of the evening did not speak.</p>
-<p>But towards the end of September something extraordinary fell
- upon her life; she was invited by the Marquis d'Andervilliers to
- Vaubyessard.</p>
-<p>Secretary of State under the Restoration, the Marquis, anxious to
- re-enter political life, set about preparing for his candidature
- to the Chamber of Deputies long beforehand. In the winter he
- distributed a great deal of wood, and in the Conseil General
- always enthusiastically demanded new roads for his
- arrondissement. During the dog-days he had suffered from an
- abscess, which Charles had cured as if by miracle by giving a
- timely little touch with the lancet. The steward sent to Tostes
- to pay for the operation reported in the evening that he had seen
- some superb cherries in the doctor's little garden. Now cherry
- trees did not thrive at Vaubyessard; the Marquis asked Bovary for
- some slips; made it his business to thank his personally; saw
- Emma; thought she had a pretty figure, and that she did not bow
- like a peasant; so that he did not think he was going beyond the
- bounds of condescension, nor, on the other hand, making a
- mistake, in inviting the young couple.</p>
-<p>On Wednesday at three o'clock, Monsieur and Madame Bovary, seated
- in their dog-cart, set out for Vaubyessard, with a great trunk
- strapped on behind and a bonnet-box in front of the apron.
- Besides these Charles held a bandbox between his knees.</p>
-<p>They arrived at nightfall, just as the lamps in the park were being lit to
- show the way for the carriages.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Eight</h3>
-<p>The chateau, a modern building in Italian style, with two
- projecting wings and three flights of steps, lay at the foot of
- an immense green-sward, on which some cows were grazing among
- groups of large trees set out at regular intervals, while large
- beds of arbutus, rhododendron, syringas, and guelder roses bulged
- out their irregular clusters of green along the curve of the
- gravel path. A river flowed under a bridge; through the mist one
- could distinguish buildings with thatched roofs scattered over
- the field bordered by two gently sloping, well timbered hillocks,
- and in the background amid the trees rose in two parallel lines
- the coach houses and stables, all that was left of the ruined old
- chateau.</p>
-<p>Charles's dog-cart pulled up before the middle flight of steps;
- servants appeared; the Marquis came forward, and, offering his
- arm to the doctor's wife, conducted her to the vestibule.</p>
-<p>It was paved with marble slabs, was very lofty, and the sound of
- footsteps and that of voices re-echoed through it as in a church.</p>
-<p>Opposite rose a straight staircase, and on the left a gallery
- overlooking the garden led to the billiard room, through whose
- door one could hear the click of the ivory balls. As she crossed
- it to go to the drawing room, Emma saw standing round the table
- men with grave faces, their chins resting on high cravats. They
- all wore orders, and smiled silently as they made their strokes.</p>
-<p>On the dark wainscoting of the walls large gold frames bore at
- the bottom names written in black letters. She read:
- &quot;Jean-Antoine d'Andervilliers d'Yvervonbille, Count de la
- Vaubyessard and Baron de la Fresnay, killed at the battle of
- Coutras on the 20th of October, 1857.&quot; And on another:
- &quot;Jean-Antoine-Henry-Guy d'Andervilliers de la Vaubyessard,
- Admiral of France and Chevalier of the Order of St. Michael,
- wounded at the battle of the Hougue-Saint-Vaast on the 29th of
- May, 1692; died at Vaubyessard on the 23rd of January 1693.&quot; One
- could hardly make out those that followed, for the light of the
- lamps lowered over the green cloth threw a dim shadow round the
- room. Burnishing the horizontal pictures, it broke up against
- these in delicate lines where there were cracks in the varnish,
- and from all these great black squares framed in with gold stood
- out here and there some lighter portion of the painting--a pale
- brow, two eyes that looked at you, perukes flowing over and
- powdering red-coated shoulders, or the buckle of a garter above a
- well-rounded calf.</p>
-<p>The Marquis opened the drawing room door; one of the ladies (the
- Marchioness herself) came to meet Emma. She made her sit down by
- her on an ottoman, and began talking to her as amicably as if she
- had known her a long time. She was a woman of about forty, with
- fine shoulders, a hook nose, a drawling voice, and on this
- evening she wore over her brown hair a simple guipure fichu that
- fell in a point at the back. A fair young woman sat in a
- high-backed chair in a corner; and gentlemen with flowers in
- their buttonholes were talking to ladies round the fire.</p>
-<p>At seven dinner was served. The men, who were in the majority,
- sat down at the first table in the vestibule; the ladies at the
- second in the dining room with the Marquis and Marchioness.</p>
-<p>Emma, on entering, felt herself wrapped round by the warm air, a
- blending of the perfume of flowers and of the fine linen, of the
- fumes of the viands, and the odour of the truffles. The silver
- dish covers reflected the lighted wax candles in the candelabra,
- the cut crystal covered with light steam reflected from one to
- the other pale rays; bouquets were placed in a row the whole
- length of the table; and in the large-bordered plates each
- napkin, arranged after the fashion of a bishop's mitre, held
- between its two gaping folds a small oval shaped roll. The red
- claws of lobsters hung over the dishes; rich fruit in open
- baskets was piled up on moss; there were quails in their plumage;
- smoke was rising; and in silk stockings, knee-breeches, white
- cravat, and frilled shirt, the steward, grave as a judge,
- offering ready carved dishes between the shoulders of the guests,
- with a touch of the spoon gave you the piece chosen. On the large
- stove of porcelain inlaid with copper baguettes the statue of a
- woman, draped to the chin, gazed motionless on the room full of
- life.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary noticed that many ladies had not put their gloves
- in their glasses.</p>
-<p>But at the upper end of the table, alone amongst all these women, bent over
- his full plate, and his napkin tied round his neck like a child, an old man
- sat eating, letting drops of gravy drip from his mouth. His eyes were bloodshot,
- and he wore a little queue tied with black ribbon. He was the Marquis's father-in-law,
- the old Duke de Laverdiere, once on a time favourite of the Count d'Artois,
- in the days of the Vaudreuil hunting-parties at the Marquis de Conflans', and
- had been, it was said, the lover of Queen Marie Antoinette, between Monsieur
- de Coigny and Monsieur de Lauzun. He had lived a life of noisy debauch, full
- of duels, bets, elopements; he had squandered his fortune and frightened all
- his family. A servant behind his chair named aloud to him in his ear the dishes
- that he pointed to stammering, and constantly Emma's eyes turned involuntarily
- to this old man with hanging lips, as to something extraordinary. He had lived
- at court and slept in the bed of queens! Iced champagne was poured out. Emma
- shivered all over as she felt it cold in her mouth. She had never seen pomegranates
- nor tasted pineapples. The powdered sugar even seemed to her whiter and finer
- than elsewhere. </p>
-<p>The ladies afterwards went to their rooms to prepare for the
- ball.</p>
-<p>Emma made her toilet with the fastidious care of an actress on
- her debut. She did her hair according to the directions of the
- hairdresser, and put on the barege dress spread out upon the bed.</p>
-<p>Charles's trousers were tight across the belly.</p>
-<p>&quot;My trouser-straps will be rather awkward for dancing,&quot; he said.</p>
-<p>&quot;Dancing?&quot; repeated Emma.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why, you must be mad! They would make fun of you; keep your
- place. Besides, it is more becoming for a doctor,&quot; she added.</p>
-<p>Charles was silent. He walked up and down waiting for Emma to
- finish dressing.</p>
-<p>He saw her from behind in the glass between two lights. Her black
- eyes seemed blacker than ever. Her hair, undulating towards the
- ears, shone with a blue lustre; a rose in her chignon trembled on
- its mobile stalk, with artificial dewdrops on the tip of the
- leaves. She wore a gown of pale saffron trimmed with three
- bouquets of pompon roses mixed with green.</p>
-<p>Charles came and kissed her on her shoulder.</p>
-<p>&quot;Let me alone!&quot; she said; &quot;you are tumbling me.&quot;</p>
-<p>One could hear the flourish of the violin and the notes of a
- horn. She went downstairs restraining herself from running.</p>
-<p>Dancing had begun. Guests were arriving. There was some crushing.</p>
-<p>She sat down on a form near the door.</p>
-<p>The quadrille over, the floor was occupied by groups of men
- standing up and talking and servants in livery bearing large
- trays. Along the line of seated women painted fans were
- fluttering, bouquets half hid smiling faces, and gold stoppered
- scent-bottles were turned in partly-closed hands, whose white
- gloves outlined the nails and tightened on the flesh at the
- wrists. Lace trimmings, diamond brooches, medallion bracelets
- trembled on bodices, gleamed on breasts, clinked on bare arms.</p>
-<p>The hair, well-smoothed over the temples and knotted at the nape,
- bore crowns, or bunches, or sprays of mytosotis, jasmine,
- pomegranate blossoms, ears of corn, and corn-flowers. Calmly
- seated in their places, mothers with forbidding countenances were
- wearing red turbans.</p>
-<p>Emma's heart beat rather faster when, her partner holding her by
- the tips of the fingers, she took her place in a line with the
- dancers, and waited for the first note to start. But her emotion
- soon vanished, and, swaying to the rhythm of the orchestra, she
- glided forward with slight movements of the neck. A smile rose to
- her lips at certain delicate phrases of the violin, that
- sometimes played alone while the other instruments were silent;
- one could hear the clear clink of the louis d'or that were being
- thrown down upon the card tables in the next room; then all
- struck again, the cornet-a-piston uttered its sonorous note, feet
- marked time, skirts swelled and rustled, hands touched and
- parted; the same eyes falling before you met yours again.</p>
-<p>A few men (some fifteen or so), of twenty-five to forty,
- scattered here and there among the dancers or talking at the
- doorways, distinguished themselves from the crowd by a certain
- air of breeding, whatever their differences in age, dress, or
- face.</p>
-<p>Their clothes, better made, seemed of finer cloth, and their
- hair, brought forward in curls towards the temples, glossy with
- more delicate pomades. They had the complexion of wealth--that
- clear complexion that is heightened by the pallor of porcelain,
- the shimmer of satin, the veneer of old furniture, and that an
- ordered regimen of exquisite nurture maintains at its best. Their
- necks moved easily in their low cravats, their long whiskers fell
- over their turned-down collars, they wiped their lips upon
- handkerchiefs with embroidered initials that gave forth a subtle
- perfume. Those who were beginning to grow old had an air of
- youth, while there was something mature in the faces of the
- young. In their unconcerned looks was the calm of passions daily
- satiated, and through all their gentleness of manner pierced that
- peculiar brutality, the result of a command of half-easy things,
- in which force is exercised and vanity amused--the management of
- thoroughbred horses and the society of loose women.</p>
-<p>A few steps from Emma a gentleman in a blue coat was talking of
- Italy with a pale young woman wearing a parure of pearls.</p>
-<p>They were praising the breadth of the columns of St. Peter's,
- Tivoly, Vesuvius, Castellamare, and Cassines, the roses of Genoa,
- the Coliseum by moonlight. With her other ear Emma was listening
- to a conversation full of words she did not understand. A circle
- gathered round a very young man who the week before had beaten
- &quot;Miss Arabella&quot; and &quot;Romolus,&quot; and won two thousand louis
- jumping
- a ditch in England. One complained that his racehorses were
- growing fat; another of the printers' errors that had disfigured
- the name of his horse.</p>
-<p>The atmosphere of the ball was heavy; the lamps were growing dim.</p>
-<p>Guests were flocking to the billiard room. A servant got upon a
- chair and broke the window-panes. At the crash of the glass
- Madame Bovary turned her head and saw in the garden the faces of
- peasants pressed against the window looking in at them. Then the
- memory of the Bertaux came back to her. She saw the farm again,
- the muddy pond, her father in a blouse under the apple trees, and
- she saw herself again as formerly, skimming with her finger the
- cream off the milk-pans in the dairy. But in the refulgence of
- the present hour her past life, so distinct until then, faded
- away completely, and she almost doubted having lived it. She was
- there; beyond the ball was only shadow overspreading all the
- rest. She was just eating a maraschino ice that she held with her
- left hand in a silver-gilt cup, her eyes half-closed, and the
- spoon between her teeth.</p>
-<p>A lady near her dropped her fan. A gentlemen was passing.</p>
-<p>&quot;Would you be so good,&quot; said the lady, &quot;as to pick up my fan
- that
- has fallen behind the sofa?&quot;</p>
-<p>The gentleman bowed, and as he moved to stretch out his arm, Emma
- saw the hand of a young woman throw something white, folded in a
- triangle, into his hat. The gentleman, picking up the fan,
- offered it to the lady respectfully; she thanked him with an
- inclination of the head, and began smelling her bouquet.</p>
-<p>After supper, where were plenty of Spanish and Rhine wines, soups
- a la bisque and au lait d'amandes*, puddings a la Trafalgar, and
- all sorts of cold meats with jellies that trembled in the dishes,
- the carriages one after the other began to drive off. Raising the
- corners of the muslin curtain, one could see the light of their
- lanterns glimmering through the darkness. The seats began to
- empty, some card-players were still left; the musicians were
- cooling the tips of their fingers on their tongues. Charles was
- half asleep, his back propped against a door.</p>
-<p>*With almond milk</p>
-<p>At three o'clock the cotillion began. Emma did not know how to waltz.
- Everyone was waltzing, Mademoiselle d'Andervilliers herself and the Marquis;
- only the guests staying at the castle were still there, about a
- dozen persons.</p>
-<p>One of the waltzers, however, who was familiarly called Viscount,
- and whose low cut waistcoat seemed moulded to his chest, came a
- second time to ask Madame Bovary to dance, assuring her that he
- would guide her, and that she would get through it very well.</p>
-<p>They began slowly, then went more rapidly. They turned; all
- around them was turning--the lamps, the furniture, the
- wainscoting, the floor, like a disc on a pivot. On passing near
- the doors the bottom of Emma's dress caught against his trousers.</p>
-<p>Their legs commingled; he looked down at her; she raised her eyes
- to his. A torpor seized her; she stopped. They started again, and
- with a more rapid movement; the Viscount, dragging her along
- disappeared with her to the end of the gallery, where panting,
- she almost fell, and for a moment rested her head upon his
- breast. And then, still turning, but more slowly, he guided her
- back to her seat. She leaned back against the wall and covered
- her eyes with her hands.</p>
-<p>When she opened them again, in the middle of the drawing room
- three waltzers were kneeling before a lady sitting on a stool.</p>
-<p>She chose the Viscount, and the violin struck up once more.</p>
-<p>Everyone looked at them. They passed and re-passed, she with
- rigid body, her chin bent down, and he always in the same pose,
- his figure curved, his elbow rounded, his chin thrown forward.
- That woman knew how to waltz! They kept up a long time, and tired
- out all the others.</p>
-<p>Then they talked a few moments longer, and after the goodnights,
- or rather good mornings, the guests of the chateau retired to
- bed.</p>
-<p>Charles dragged himself up by the balusters. His &quot;knees were
- going up into his body.&quot; He had spent five consecutive hours
- standing bolt upright at the card tables, watching them play
- whist, without understanding anything about it, and it was with a
- deep sigh of relief that he pulled off his boots.</p>
-<p>Emma threw a shawl over her shoulders, opened the window, and
- leant out.</p>
-<p>The night was dark; some drops of rain were falling. She breathed
- in the damp wind that refreshed her eyelids. The music of the
- ball was still murmuring in her ears. And she tried to keep
- herself awake in order to prolong the illusion that this
- luxurious life that she would soon have to give up.</p>
-<p>Day began to break. She looked long at the windows of the
- chateau, trying to guess which were the rooms of all those she
- had noticed the evening before. She would fain have known their
- lives, have penetrated, blended with them. But she was shivering
- with cold. She undressed, and cowered down between the sheets
- against Charles, who was asleep.</p>
-<p>There were a great many people to luncheon. The repast lasted ten
- minutes; no liqueurs were served, which astonished the doctor.</p>
-<p>Next, Mademoiselle d'Andervilliers collected some pieces of roll
- in a small basket to take them to the swans on the ornamental
- waters, and they went to walk in the hot-houses, where strange
- plants, bristling with hairs, rose in pyramids under hanging
- vases, whence, as from over-filled nests of serpents, fell long
- green cords interlacing. The orangery, which was at the other
- end, led by a covered way to the outhouses of the chateau. The
- Marquis, to amuse the young woman, took her to see the stables.</p>
-<p>Above the basket-shaped racks porcelain slabs bore the names of
- the horses in black letters. Each animal in its stall whisked its
- tail when anyone went near and said &quot;Tchk! tchk!&quot; The boards of
- the harness room shone like the flooring of a drawing room. The
- carriage harness was piled up in the middle against two twisted
- columns, and the bits, the whips, the spurs, the curbs, were
- ranged in a line all along the wall.</p>
-<p>Charles, meanwhile, went to ask a groom to put his horse to. The
- dog-cart was brought to the foot of the steps, and, all the
- parcels being crammed in, the Bovarys paid their respects to the
- Marquis and Marchioness and set out again for Tostes.</p>
-<p>Emma watched the turning wheels in silence. Charles, on the
- extreme edge of the seat, held the reins with his two arms wide
- apart, and the little horse ambled along in the shafts that were
- too big for him. The loose reins hanging over his crupper were
- wet with foam, and the box fastened on behind the chaise gave
- great regular bumps against it.</p>
-<p>They were on the heights of Thibourville when suddenly some
- horsemen with cigars between their lips passed laughing. Emma
- thought she recognized the Viscount, turned back, and caught on
- the horizon only the movement of the heads rising or falling with
- the unequal cadence of the trot or gallop.</p>
-<p>A mile farther on they had to stop to mend with some string the
- traces that had broken.</p>
-<p>But Charles, giving a last look to the harness, saw something on
- the ground between his horse's legs, and he picked up a
- cigar-case with a green silk border and beblazoned in the centre
- like the door of a carriage.</p>
-<p>&quot;There are even two cigars in it,&quot; said he; &quot;they'll do for
- this
- evening after dinner.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why, do you smoke?&quot; she asked.</p>
-<p>&quot;Sometimes, when I get a chance.&quot;</p>
-<p>He put his find in his pocket and whipped up the nag.</p>
-<p>When they reached home the dinner was not ready. Madame lost her
- temper. Nastasie answered rudely.</p>
-<p>&quot;Leave the room!&quot; said Emma. &quot;You are forgetting yourself. I
- give
- you warning.&quot;</p>
-<p>For dinner there was onion soup and a piece of veal with sorrel.</p>
-<p>Charles, seated opposite Emma, rubbed his hands gleefully.</p>
-<p>&quot;How good it is to be at home again!&quot;</p>
-<p>Nastasie could be heard crying. He was rather fond of the poor
- girl. She had formerly, during the wearisome time of his
- widowhood, kept him company many an evening. She had been his
- first patient, his oldest acquaintance in the place.</p>
-<p>&quot;Have you given her warning for good?&quot; he asked at last.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes. Who is to prevent me?&quot; she replied.</p>
-<p>Then they warmed themselves in the kitchen while their room was
- being made ready. Charles began to smoke. He smoked with lips
- protruding, spitting every moment, recoiling at every puff.</p>
-<p>&quot;You'll make yourself ill,&quot; she said scornfully.</p>
-<p>He put down his cigar and ran to swallow a glass of cold water at
- the pump. Emma seizing hold of the cigar case threw it quickly to
- the back of the cupboard.</p>
-<p>The next day was a long one. She walked about her little garden,
- up and down the same walks, stopping before the beds, before the
- espalier, before the plaster curate, looking with amazement at
- all these things of once-on-a-time that she knew so well. How far
- off the ball seemed already! What was it that thus set so far
- asunder the morning of the day before yesterday and the evening
- of to-day? Her journey to Vaubyessard had made a hole in her
- life, like one of those great crevices that a storm will
- sometimes make in one night in mountains. Still she was resigned.
- She devoutly put away in her drawers her beautiful dress, down to
- the satin shoes whose soles were yellowed with the slippery wax
- of the dancing floor. Her heart was like these. In its friction
- against wealth something had come over it that could not be
- effaced.</p>
-<p>The memory of this ball, then, became an occupation for Emma.</p>
-<p>Whenever the Wednesday came round she said to herself as she
- awoke, &quot;Ah! I was there a week--a fortnight--three weeks ago.&quot;</p>
-<p>And little by little the faces grew confused in her remembrance.</p>
-<p>She forgot the tune of the quadrilles; she no longer saw the liveries and appointments
- so distinctly; some details escaped her, but the regret remained with her.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Nine</h3>
-<p>Often when Charles was out she took from the cupboard, between
- the folds of the linen where she had left it, the green silk
- cigar case. She looked at it, opened it, and even smelt the odour
- of the lining--a mixture of verbena and tobacco. Whose was it?
- The Viscount's? Perhaps it was a present from his mistress. It
- had been embroidered on some rosewood frame, a pretty little
- thing, hidden from all eyes, that had occupied many hours, and
- over which had fallen the soft curls of the pensive worker. A
- breath of love had passed over the stitches on the canvas; each
- prick of the needle had fixed there a hope or a memory, and all
- those interwoven threads of silk were but the continuity of the
- same silent passion. And then one morning the Viscount had taken
- it away with him. Of what had they spoken when it lay upon the
- wide-mantelled chimneys between flower-vases and Pompadour
- clocks? She was at Tostes; he was at Paris now, far away! What
- was this Paris like? What a vague name! She repeated it in a low
- voice, for the mere pleasure of it; it rang in her ears like a
- great cathedral bell; it shone before her eyes, even on the
- labels of her pomade-pots.</p>
-<p>At night, when the carriers passed under her windows in their
- carts singing the &quot;Marjolaine,&quot; she awoke, and listened to the
- noise of the iron-bound wheels, which, as they gained the country
- road, was soon deadened by the soil. &quot;They will be there
- to-morrow!&quot; she said to herself.</p>
-<p>And she followed them in thought up and down the hills,
- traversing villages, gliding along the highroads by the light of
- the stars. At the end of some indefinite distance there was
- always a confused spot, into which her dream died.</p>
-<p>She bought a plan of Paris, and with the tip of her finger on the
- map she walked about the capital. She went up the boulevards,
- stopping at every turning, between the lines of the streets, in
- front of the white squares that represented the houses. At last
- she would close the lids of her weary eyes, and see in the
- darkness the gas jets flaring in the wind and the steps of
- carriages lowered with much noise before the peristyles of
- theatres.</p>
-<p>She took in &quot;La Corbeille,&quot; a lady's journal, and the &quot;Sylphe
- des
- Salons.&quot; She devoured, without skipping a work, all the accounts
- of first nights, races, and soirees, took interest in the debut
- of a singer, in the opening of a new shop. She knew the latest
- fashions, the addresses of the best tailors, the days of the Bois
- and the Opera. In Eugene Sue she studied descriptions of
- furniture; she read Balzac and George Sand, seeking in them
- imaginary satisfaction for her own desires. Even at table she had
- her book by her, and turned over the pages while Charles ate and
- talked to her. The memory of the Viscount always returned as she
- read. Between him and the imaginary personages she made
- comparisons. But the circle of which he was the centre gradually
- widened round him, and the aureole that he bore, fading from his
- form, broadened out beyond, lighting up her other dreams.</p>
-<p>Paris, more vague than the ocean, glimmered before Emma's eyes in an atmosphere
- of vermilion. The many lives that stirred amid this tumult were, however, divided
- into parts, classed as distinct pictures. Emma perceived only two or three that
- hid from her all the rest, and in themselves represented all humanity. The world
- of ambassadors moved over polished floors in drawing rooms lined with mirrors,
- round oval tables covered with velvet and gold-fringed cloths. There were dresses
- with trains, deep mysteries, anguish hidden beneath smiles. Then came the society
- of the duchesses; all were pale; all got up at four o'clock; the women, poor
- angels, wore English point on their petticoats; and the men, unappreciated geniuses
- under a frivolous outward seeming, rode horses to death at pleasure parties,
- spent the summer season at Baden, and towards the forties married heiresses.
- In the private rooms of restaurants, where one sups after midnight by the light
- of wax candles, laughed the motley crowd of men of letters and actresses. They
- were prodigal as kings, full of ideal, ambitious, fantastic frenzy. This was
- an existence outside that of all others, between heaven and earth, in the midst
- of storms, having something of the sublime. For the rest of the world it was
- lost, with no particular place and as if non-existent. The nearer things were,
- moreover, the more her thoughts turned away from them. All her immediate surroundings,
- the wearisome country, the middle-class imbeciles, the mediocrity of existence,
- seemed to her exceptional, a peculiar chance that had caught hold of her, while
- beyond stretched, as far as eye could see, an immense land of joys and passions.
- She confused in her desire the sensualities of luxury with the delights of the
- heart, elegance of manners with delicacy of sentiment. Did not love, like Indian
- plants, need a special soil, a particular temperature? Signs by moonlight, long
- embraces, tears flowing over yielded hands, all the fevers of the flesh and
- the languors of tenderness could not be separated from the balconies of great
- castles full of indolence, from boudoirs with silken curtains and thick carpets,
- well-filled flower-stands, a bed on a raised dias, nor from the flashing of
- precious stones and the shoulder-knots of liveries.</p>
-<p>The lad from the posting house who came to groom the mare every
- morning passed through the passage with his heavy wooden shoes;
- there were holes in his blouse; his feet were bare in list
- slippers. And this was the groom in knee-britches with whom she
- had to be content! His work done, he did not come back again all
- day, for Charles on his return put up his horse himself,
- unsaddled him and put on the halter, while the servant-girl
- brought a bundle of straw and threw it as best she could into the
- manger.</p>
-<p>To replace Nastasie (who left Tostes shedding torrents of tears)
- Emma took into her service a young girl of fourteen, an orphan
- with a sweet face. She forbade her wearing cotton caps, taught
- her to address her in the third person, to bring a glass of water
- on a plate, to knock before coming into a room, to iron, starch,
- and to dress her--wanted to make a lady's-maid of her. The new
- servant obeyed without a murmur, so as not to be sent away; and
- as madame usually left the key in the sideboard, Felicite every
- evening took a small supply of sugar that she ate alone in her
- bed after she had said her prayers.</p>
-<p>Sometimes in the afternoon she went to chat with the postilions.</p>
-<p>Madame was in her room upstairs. She wore an open dressing gown
- that showed between the shawl facings of her bodice a pleated
- chamisette with three gold buttons. Her belt was a corded girdle
- with great tassels, and her small garnet coloured slippers had a
- large knot of ribbon that fell over her instep. She had bought
- herself a blotting book, writing case, pen-holder, and envelopes,
- although she had no one to write to; she dusted her what-not,
- looked at herself in the glass, picked up a book, and then,
- dreaming between the lines, let it drop on her knees. She longed
- to travel or to go back to her convent. She wished at the same
- time to die and to live in Paris.</p>
-<p>Charles in snow and rain trotted across country. He ate omelettes
- on farmhouse tables, poked his arm into damp beds, received the
- tepid spurt of blood-lettings in his face, listened to
- death-rattles, examined basins, turned over a good deal of dirty
- linen; but every evening he found a blazing fire, his dinner
- ready, easy-chairs, and a well-dressed woman, charming with an
- odour of freshness, though no one could say whence the perfume
- came, or if it were not her skin that made odorous her chemise.</p>
-<p>She charmed him by numerous attentions; now it was some new way
- of arranging paper sconces for the candles, a flounce that she
- altered on her gown, or an extraordinary name for some very
- simple dish that the servant had spoilt, but that Charles
- swallowed with pleasure to the last mouthful. At Rouen she saw
- some ladies who wore a bunch of charms on the watch-chains; she
- bought some charms. She wanted for her mantelpiece two large blue
- glass vases, and some time after an ivory necessaire with a
- silver-gilt thimble. The less Charles understood these
- refinements the more they seduced him. They added something to
- the pleasure of the senses and to the comfort of his fireside. It
- was like a golden dust sanding all along the narrow path of his
- life.</p>
-<p>He was well, looked well; his reputation was firmly established.</p>
-<p>The country-folk loved him because he was not proud. He petted
- the children, never went to the public house, and, moreover, his
- morals inspired confidence. He was specially successful with
- catarrhs and chest complaints. Being much afraid of killing his
- patients, Charles, in fact only prescribed sedatives, from time
- to time and emetic, a footbath, or leeches. It was not that he
- was afraid of surgery; he bled people copiously like horses, and
- for the taking out of teeth he had the &quot;devil's own wrist.&quot;</p>
-<p>Finally, to keep up with the times, he took in &quot;La Ruche
- Medicale,&quot; a new journal whose prospectus had been sent him. He
- read it a little after dinner, but in about five minutes the
- warmth of the room added to the effect of his dinner sent him to
- sleep; and he sat there, his chin on his two hands and his hair
- spreading like a mane to the foot of the lamp. Emma looked at him
- and shrugged her shoulders. Why, at least, was not her husband
- one of those men of taciturn passions who work at their books all
- night, and at last, when about sixty, the age of rheumatism sets
- in, wear a string of orders on their ill-fitting black coat? She
- could have wished this name of Bovary, which was hers, had been
- illustrious, to see it displayed at the booksellers', repeated in
- the newspapers, known to all France. But Charles had no ambition.</p>
-<p>An Yvetot doctor whom he had lately met in consultation had
- somewhat humiliated him at the very bedside of the patient,
- before the assembled relatives. When, in the evening, Charles
- told her this anecdote, Emma inveighed loudly against his
- colleague. Charles was much touched. He kissed her forehead with
- a tear in his eyes. But she was angered with shame; she felt a
- wild desire to strike him; she went to open the window in the
- passage and breathed in the fresh air to calm herself.</p>
-<p>&quot;What a man! What a man!&quot; she said in a low voice, biting her
- lips.</p>
-<p>Besides, she was becoming more irritated with him. As he grew
- older his manner grew heavier; at dessert he cut the corks of the
- empty bottles; after eating he cleaned his teeth with his tongue;
- in taking soup he made a gurgling noise with every spoonful; and,
- as he was getting fatter, the puffed-out cheeks seemed to push
- the eyes, always small, up to the temples.</p>
-<p>Sometimes Emma tucked the red borders of his under-vest unto his
- waistcoat, rearranged his cravat, and threw away the dirty gloves
- he was going to put on; and this was not, as he fancied, for
- himself; it was for herself, by a diffusion of egotism, of
- nervous irritation. Sometimes, too, she told him of what she had
- read, such as a passage in a novel, of a new play, or an anecdote
- of the &quot;upper ten&quot; that she had seen in a feuilleton; for, after
- all, Charles was something, an ever-open ear, and ever-ready
- approbation. She confided many a thing to her greyhound. She
- would have done so to the logs in the fireplace or to the
- pendulum of the clock.</p>
-<p>At the bottom of her heart, however, she was waiting for
- something to happen. Like shipwrecked sailors, she turned
- despairing eyes upon the solitude of her life, seeking afar off
- some white sail in the mists of the horizon. She did not know
- what this chance would be, what wind would bring it her, towards
- what shore it would drive her, if it would be a shallop or a
- three-decker, laden with anguish or full of bliss to the
- portholes. But each morning, as she awoke, she hoped it would
- come that day; she listened to every sound, sprang up with a
- start, wondered that it did not come; then at sunset, always more
- saddened, she longed for the morrow.</p>
-<p>Spring came round. With the first warm weather, when the pear
- trees began to blossom, she suffered from dyspnoea.</p>
-<p>From the beginning of July she counted how many weeks there were
- to October, thinking that perhaps the Marquis d'Andervilliers
- would give another ball at Vaubyessard. But all September passed
- without letters or visits.</p>
-<p>After the ennui of this disappointment her heart once more
- remained empty, and then the same series of days recommenced. So
- now they would thus follow one another, always the same,
- immovable, and bringing nothing. Other lives, however flat, had
- at least the chance of some event. One adventure sometimes
- brought with it infinite consequences and the scene changed. But
- nothing happened to her; God had willed it so! The future was a
- dark corridor, with its door at the end shut fast.</p>
-<p>She gave up music. What was the good of playing? Who would hear
- her? Since she could never, in a velvet gown with short sleeves,
- striking with her light fingers the ivory keys of an Erard at a
- concert, feel the murmur of ecstasy envelop her like a breeze, it
- was not worth while boring herself with practicing. Her drawing
- cardboard and her embroidery she left in the cupboard. What was
- the good? What was the good? Sewing irritated her. &quot;I have read
- everything,&quot; she said to herself. And she sat there making the
- tongs red-hot, or looked at the rain falling.</p>
-<p>How sad she was on Sundays when vespers sounded! She listened
- with dull attention to each stroke of the cracked bell. A cat
- slowly walking over some roof put up his back in the pale rays of
- the sum. The wind on the highroad blew up clouds of dust. Afar
- off a dog sometimes howled; and the bell, keeping time, continued
- its monotonous ringing that died away over the fields.</p>
-<p>But the people came out from church. The women in waxed clogs,
- the peasants in new blouses, the little bare-headed children
- skipping along in front of them, all were going home. And till
- nightfall, five or six men, always the same, stayed playing at
- corks in front of the large door of the inn.</p>
-<p>The winter was severe. The windows every morning were covered
- with rime, and the light shining through them, dim as through
- ground-glass, sometimes did not change the whole day long. At
- four o'clock the lamp had to be lighted.</p>
-<p>On fine days she went down into the garden. The dew had left on
- the cabbages a silver lace with long transparent threads
- spreading from one to the other. No birds were to be heard;
- everything seemed asleep, the espalier covered with straw, and
- the vine, like a great sick serpent under the coping of the wall,
- along which, on drawing hear, one saw the many-footed woodlice
- crawling. Under the spruce by the hedgerow, the curie in the
- three-cornered hat reading his breviary had lost his right foot,
- and the very plaster, scaling off with the frost, had left white
- scabs on his face.</p>
-<p>Then she went up again, shut her door, put on coals, and fainting
- with the heat of the hearth, felt her boredom weigh more heavily
- than ever. She would have like to go down and talk to the
- servant, but a sense of shame restrained her.</p>
-<p>Every day at the same time the schoolmaster in a black skullcap
- opened the shutters of his house, and the rural policeman,
- wearing his sabre over his blouse, passed by. Night and morning
- the post-horses, three by three, crossed the street to water at
- the pond. From time to time the bell of a public house door rang,
- and when it was windy one could hear the little brass basins that
- served as signs for the hairdresser's shop creaking on their two
- rods. This shop had as decoration an old engraving of a
- fashion-plate stuck against a windowpane and the wax bust of a
- woman with yellow hair. He, too, the hairdresser, lamented his
- wasted calling, his hopeless future, and dreaming of some shop in
- a big town--at Rouen, for example, overlooking the harbour, near
- the theatre--he walked up and down all day from the mairie to the
- church, sombre and waiting for customers. When Madame Bovary
- looked up, she always saw him there, like a sentinel on duty,
- with his skullcap over his ears and his vest of lasting.</p>
-<p>Sometimes in the afternoon outside the window of her room, the
- head of a man appeared, a swarthy head with black whiskers,
- smiling slowly, with a broad, gentle smile that showed his white
- teeth. A waltz immediately began and on the organ, in a little
- drawing room, dancers the size of a finger, women in pink
- turbans, Tyrolians in jackets, monkeys in frock coats, gentlemen
- in knee-breeches, turned and turned between the sofas, the
- consoles, multiplied in the bits of looking glass held together
- at their corners by a piece of gold paper. The man turned his
- handle, looking to the right and left, and up at the windows. Now
- and again, while he shot out a long squirt of brown saliva
- against the milestone, with his knee raised his instrument, whose
- hard straps tired his shoulder; and now, doleful and drawling, or
- gay and hurried, the music escaped from the box, droning through
- a curtain of pink taffeta under a brass claw in arabesque. They
- were airs played in other places at the theatres, sung in drawing
- rooms, danced to at night under lighted lustres, echoes of the
- world that reached even to Emma. Endless sarabands ran through
- her head, and, like an Indian dancing girl on the flowers of a
- carpet, her thoughts leapt with the notes, swung from dream to
- dream, from sadness to sadness. When the man had caught some
- coppers in his cap, he drew down an old cover of blue cloth,
- hitched his organ on to his back, and went off with a heavy
- tread. She watched him going.</p>
-<p>But it was above all the meal-times that were unbearable to her,
- in this small room on the ground floor, with its smoking stove,
- its creaking door, the walls that sweated, the damp flags; all
- the bitterness in life seemed served up on her plate, and with
- smoke of the boiled beef there rose from her secret soul whiffs
- of sickliness. Charles was a slow eater; she played with a few
- nuts, or, leaning on her elbow, amused herself with drawing lines
- along the oilcloth table cover with the point of her knife.</p>
-<p>She now let everything in her household take care of itself, and
- Madame Bovary senior, when she came to spend part of Lent at
- Tostes, was much surprised at the change. She who was formerly so
- careful, so dainty, now passed whole days without dressing, wore
- grey cotton stockings, and burnt tallow candles. She kept saying
- they must be economical since they were not rich, adding that she
- was very contented, very happy, that Tostes pleased her very
- much, with other speeches that closed the mouth of her
- mother-in-law. Besides, Emma no longer seemed inclined to follow
- her advice; once even, Madame Bovary having thought fit to
- maintain that mistresses ought to keep an eye on the religion of
- their servants, she had answered with so angry a look and so cold
- a smile that the good woman did not interfere again.</p>
-<p>Emma was growing difficult, capricious. She ordered dishes for
- herself, then she did not touch them; one day drank only pure
- milk, the next cups of tea by the dozen. Often she persisted in
- not going out, then, stifling, threw open the windows and put on
- light dresses. After she had well scolded her servant she gave
- her presents or sent her out to see neighbours, just as she
- sometimes threw beggars all the silver in her purse, although she
- was by no means tender-hearted or easily accessible to the
- feelings of others, like most country-bred people, who always
- retain in their souls something of the horny hardness of the
- paternal hands.</p>
-<p>Towards the end of February old Rouault, in memory of his cure,
- himself brought his son-in-law a superb turkey, and stayed three
- days at Tostes. Charles being with his patients, Emma kept him
- company. He smoked in the room, spat on the firedogs, talked
- farming, calves, cows, poultry, and municipal council, so that
- when he left she closed the door on him with a feeling of
- satisfaction that surprised even herself. Moreover she no longer
- concealed her contempt for anything or anybody, and at times she
- set herself to express singular opinions, finding fault with that
- which others approved, and approving things perverse and immoral,
- all of which made her husband open his eyes widely.</p>
-<p>Would this misery last for ever? Would she never issue from it?
- Yet she was as good as all the women who were living happily. She
- had seen duchesses at Vaubyessard with clumsier waists and
- commoner ways, and she execrated the injustice of God. She leant
- her head against the walls to weep; she envied lives of stir;
- longed for masked balls, for violent pleasures, with all the
- wildness that she did not know, but that these must surely yield.</p>
-<p>She grew pale and suffered from palpitations of the heart.</p>
-<p>Charles prescribed valerian and camphor baths. Everything that
- was tried only seemed to irritate her the more.</p>
-<p>On certain days she chatted with feverish rapidity, and this
- over-excitement was suddenly followed by a state of torpor, in
- which she remained without speaking, without moving. What then
- revived her was pouring a bottle of eau-de-cologne over her arms.</p>
-<p>As she was constantly complaining about Tostes, Charles fancied
- that her illness was no doubt due to some local cause, and fixing
- on this idea, began to think seriously of setting up elsewhere.</p>
-<p>From that moment she drank vinegar, contracted a sharp little
- cough, and completely lost her appetite.</p>
-<p>It cost Charles much to give up Tostes after living there four
- years and &quot;when he was beginning to get on there.&quot; Yet if it must
- be! He took her to Rouen to see his old master. It was a nervous
- complaint: change of air was needed.</p>
-<p>After looking about him on this side and on that, Charles learnt
- that in the Neufchatel arrondissement there was a considerable
- market town called Yonville-l'Abbaye, whose doctor, a Polish
- refugee, had decamped a week before. Then he wrote to the chemist
- of the place to ask the number of the population, the distance
- from the nearest doctor, what his predecessor had made a year,
- and so forth; and the answer being satisfactory, he made up his
- mind to move towards the spring, if Emma's health did not
- improve.</p>
-<p>One day when, in view of her departure, she was tidying a drawer,
- something pricked her finger. It was a wire of her wedding
- bouquet. The orange blossoms were yellow with dust and the silver
- bordered satin ribbons frayed at the edges. She threw it into the
- fire. It flared up more quickly than dry straw. Then it was, like
- a red bush in the cinders, slowly devoured. She watched it burn.</p>
-<p>The little pasteboard berries burst, the wire twisted, the gold
- lace melted; and the shriveled paper corollas, fluttering like
- black butterflies at the back of the stove, at least flew up the
- chimney.</p>
-<p>When they left Tostes at the month of March, Madame Bovary was pregnant.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h2 align="center"></h2>
-<h2 align="center">Part II</h2>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter One</h3>
-<p>Yonville-l'Abbaye (so called from an old Capuchin abbey of which
- not even the ruins remain) is a market-town twenty-four miles
- from Rouen, between the Abbeville and Beauvais roads, at the foot
- of a valley watered by the Rieule, a little river that runs into
- the Andelle after turning three water-mills near its mouth, where
- there are a few trout that the lads amuse themselves by fishing
- for on Sundays.</p>
-<p>We leave the highroad at La Boissiere and keep straight on to the top of the
- Leux hill, whence the valley is seen. The river that runs through it makes of
- it, as it were, two regions with distinct physiognomies--all on the left is
- pasture land, all of the right arable. The meadow stretches under a bulge of
- low hills to join at the back with the pasture land of the Bray country, while
- on the eastern side, the plain, gently rising, broadens out, showing as far
- as eye can follow its blond cornfields. The water, flowing by the grass, divides
- with a white line the colour of the roads and of the plains, and the country
- is like a great unfolded mantle with a green velvet cape bordered with a fringe
- of silver.</p>
-<p>Before us, on the verge of the horizon, lie the oaks of the
- forest of Argueil, with the steeps of the Saint-Jean hills
- scarred from top to bottom with red irregular lines; they are
- rain tracks, and these brick-tones standing out in narrow streaks
- against the grey colour of the mountain are due to the quantity
- of iron springs that flow beyond in the neighboring country.</p>
-<p>Here we are on the confines of Normandy, Picardy, and the
- Ile-de-France, a bastard land whose language is without accent
- and its landscape is without character. It is there that they
- make the worst Neufchatel cheeses of all the arrondissement; and,
- on the other hand, farming is costly because so much manure is
- needed to enrich this friable soil full of sand and flints.</p>
-<p>Up to 1835 there was no practicable road for getting to Yonville,
- but about this time a cross-road was made which joins that of
- Abbeville to that of Amiens, and is occasionally used by the
- Rouen wagoners on their way to Flanders. Yonville-l'Abbaye has
- remained stationary in spite of its &quot;new outlet.&quot; Instead of
- improving the soil, they persist in keeping up the pasture lands,
- however depreciated they may be in value, and the lazy borough,
- growing away from the plain, has naturally spread riverwards. It
- is seem from afar sprawling along the banks like a cowherd taking
- a siesta by the water-side.</p>
-<p>At the foot of the hill beyond the bridge begins a roadway,
- planted with young aspens, that leads in a straight line to the
- first houses in the place. These, fenced in by hedges, are in the
- middle of courtyards full of straggling buildings, wine-presses,
- cart-sheds and distilleries scattered under thick trees, with
- ladders, poles, or scythes hung on to the branches. The thatched
- roofs, like fur caps drawn over eyes, reach down over about a
- third of the low windows, whose coarse convex glasses have knots
- in the middle like the bottoms of bottles. Against the plaster
- wall diagonally crossed by black joists, a meagre pear-tree
- sometimes leans and the ground-floors have at their door a small
- swing-gate to keep out the chicks that come pilfering crumbs of
- bread steeped in cider on the threshold. But the courtyards grow
- narrower, the houses closer together, and the fences disappear; a
- bundle of ferns swings under a window from the end of a
- broomstick; there is a blacksmith's forge and then a
- wheelwright's, with two or three new carts outside that partly
- block the way. Then across an open space appears a white house
- beyond a grass mound ornamented by a Cupid, his finger on his
- lips; two brass vases are at each end of a flight of steps;
- scutcheons* blaze upon the door. It is the notary's house, and
- the finest in the place.</p>
-<p>*The panonceaux that have to be hung over the doors of notaries.</p>
-<p>The Church is on the other side of the street, twenty paces
- farther down, at the entrance of the square. The little cemetery
- that surrounds it, closed in by a wall breast high, is so full of
- graves that the old stones, level with the ground, form a
- continuous pavement, on which the grass of itself has marked out
- regular green squares. The church was rebuilt during the last
- years of the reign of Charles X. The wooden roof is beginning to
- rot from the top, and here and there has black hollows in its
- blue colour. Over the door, where the organ should be, is a loft
- for the men, with a spiral staircase that reverberates under
- their wooden shoes.</p>
-<p>The daylight coming through the plain glass windows falls
- obliquely upon the pews ranged along the walls, which are adorned
- here and there with a straw mat bearing beneath it the words in
- large letters, &quot;Mr. So-and-so's pew.&quot; Farther on, at a spot where
- the building narrows, the confessional forms a pendant to a
- statuette of the Virgin, clothed in a satin robe, coifed with a
- tulle veil sprinkled with silver stars, and with red cheeks, like
- an idol of the Sandwich Islands; and, finally, a copy of the
- &quot;Holy Family, presented by the Minister of the Interior,&quot;
- overlooking the high altar, between four candlesticks, closes in
- the perspective. The choir stalls, of deal wood, have been left
- unpainted.</p>
-<p>The market, that is to say, a tiled roof supported by some twenty
- posts, occupies of itself about half the public square of
- Yonville. The town hall, constructed &quot;from the designs of a Paris
- architect,&quot; is a sort of Greek temple that forms the corner next
- to the chemist's shop. On the ground-floor are three Ionic
- columns and on the first floor a semicircular gallery, while the
- dome that crowns it is occupied by a Gallic cock, resting one
- foot upon the &quot;Charte&quot; and holding in the other the scales of
- Justice.</p>
-<p>But that which most attracts the eye is opposite the Lion d'Or
- inn, the chemist's shop of Monsieur Homais. In the evening
- especially its argand lamp is lit up and the red and green jars
- that embellish his shop-front throw far across the street their
- two streams of colour; then across them as if in Bengal lights is
- seen the shadow of the chemist leaning over his desk. His house
- from top to bottom is placarded with inscriptions written in
- large hand, round hand, printed hand: &quot;Vichy, Seltzer, Barege
- waters, blood purifiers, Raspail patent medicine, Arabian
- racahout, Darcet lozenges, Regnault paste, trusses, baths,
- hygienic chocolate,&quot; etc. And the signboard, which takes up all
- the breadth of the shop, bears in gold letters, &quot;Homais,
- Chemist.&quot; Then at the back of the shop, behind the great scales
- fixed to the counter, the word &quot;Laboratory&quot; appears on a scroll
- above a glass door, which about half-way up once more repeats
- &quot;Homais&quot; in gold letters on a black ground.</p>
-<p>Beyond this there is nothing to see at Yonville. The street (the
- only one) a gunshot in length and flanked by a few shops on
- either side stops short at the turn of the highroad. If it is
- left on the right hand and the foot of the Saint-Jean hills
- followed the cemetery is soon reached.</p>
-<p>At the time of the cholera, in order to enlarge this, a piece of
- wall was pulled down, and three acres of land by its side
- purchased; but all the new portion is almost tenantless; the
- tombs, as heretofore, continue to crowd together towards the
- gate. The keeper, who is at once gravedigger and church beadle
- (thus making a double profit out of the parish corpses), has
- taken advantage of the unused plot of ground to plant potatoes
- there. From year to year, however, his small field grows smaller,
- and when there is an epidemic, he does not know whether to
- rejoice at the deaths or regret the burials.</p>
-<p>&quot;You live on the dead, Lestiboudois!&quot; the curie at last said to
- him one day. This grim remark made him reflect; it checked him
- for some time; but to this day he carries on the cultivation of
- his little tubers, and even maintains stoutly that they grow
- naturally.</p>
-<p>Since the events about to be narrated, nothing in fact has
- changed at Yonville. The tin tricolour flag still swings at the
- top of the church-steeple; the two chintz streamers still flutter
- in the wind from the linen-draper's; the chemist's fetuses, like
- lumps of white amadou, rot more and more in their turbid alcohol,
- and above the big door of the inn the old golden lion, faded by
- rain, still shows passers-by its poodle mane.</p>
-<p>On the evening when the Bovarys were to arrive at Yonville, Widow
- Lefrancois, the landlady of this inn, was so very busy that she
- sweated great drops as she moved her saucepans. To-morrow was
- market-day. The meat had to be cut beforehand, the fowls drawn,
- the soup and coffee made. Moreover, she had the boarders' meal to
- see to, and that of the doctor, his wife, and their servant; the
- billiard-room was echoing with bursts of laughter; three millers
- in a small parlour were calling for brandy; the wood was blazing,
- the brazen pan was hissing, and on the long kitchen table, amid
- the quarters of raw mutton, rose piles of plates that rattled
- with the shaking of the block on which spinach was being chopped.</p>
-<p>From the poultry-yard was heard the screaming of the fowls whom
- the servant was chasing in order to wring their necks.</p>
-<p>A man slightly marked with small-pox, in green leather slippers,
- and wearing a velvet cap with a gold tassel, was warming his back
- at the chimney. His face expressed nothing but self-satisfaction,
- and he appeared to take life as calmly as the goldfinch suspended
- over his head in its wicker cage: this was the chemist.</p>
-<p>&quot;Artemise!&quot; shouted the landlady, &quot;chop some wood, fill the
- water
- bottles, bring some brandy, look sharp! If only I knew what
- dessert to offer the guests you are expecting! Good heavens!
- Those furniture-movers are beginning their racket in the
- billiard-room again; and their van has been left before the front
- door! The 'Hirondelle' might run into it when it draws up. Call
- Polyte and tell him to put it up. Only think, Monsieur Homais,
- that since morning they have had about fifteen games, and drunk
- eight jars of cider! Why, they'll tear my cloth for me,&quot; she went
- on, looking at them from a distance, her strainer in her hand.</p>
-<p>&quot;That wouldn't be much of a loss,&quot; replied Monsieur Homais. &quot;You
- would buy another.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Another billiard-table!&quot; exclaimed the widow.</p>
-<p>&quot;Since that one is coming to pieces, Madame Lefrancois. I tell
- you again you are doing yourself harm, much harm! And besides,
- players now want narrow pockets and heavy cues. Hazards aren't
- played now; everything is changed! One must keep pace with the
- times! Just look at Tellier!&quot;</p>
-<p>The hostess reddened with vexation. The chemist went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;You may say what you like; his table is better than yours; and
- if one were to think, for example, of getting up a patriotic pool
- for Poland or the sufferers from the Lyons floods--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;It isn't beggars like him that'll frighten us,&quot; interrupted the
- landlady, shrugging her fat shoulders. &quot;Come, come, Monsieur
- Homais; as long as the 'Lion d'Or' exists people will come to it.
- We've feathered our nest; while one of these days you'll find the
- 'Cafe Francais' closed with a big placard on the shutters. Change
- my billiard-table!&quot; she went on, speaking to herself, &quot;the table
- that comes in so handy for folding the washing, and on which, in
- the hunting season, I have slept six visitors! But that dawdler,
- Hivert, doesn't come!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Are you waiting for him for your gentlemen's dinner?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Wait for him! And what about Monsieur Binet? As the clock
- strikes six you'll see him come in, for he hasn't his equal under
- the sun for punctuality. He must always have his seat in the
- small parlour. He'd rather die than dine anywhere else. And so
- squeamish as he is, and so particular about the cider! Not like
- Monsieur Leon; he sometimes comes at seven, or even half-past,
- and he doesn't so much as look at what he eats. Such a nice young
- man! Never speaks a rough word!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, you see, there's a great difference between an educated
- man and an old carabineer who is now a tax-collector.&quot;</p>
-<p>Six o'clock struck. Binet came in.</p>
-<p>He wore a blue frock-coat falling in a straight line round his
- thin body, and his leather cap, with its lappets knotted over the
- top of his head with string, showed under the turned-up peak a
- bald forehead, flattened by the constant wearing of a helmet. He
- wore a black cloth waistcoat, a hair collar, grey trousers, and,
- all the year round, well-blacked boots, that had two parallel
- swellings due to the sticking out of his big-toes. Not a hair
- stood out from the regular line of fair whiskers, which,
- encircling his jaws, framed, after the fashion of a garden
- border, his long, wan face, whose eyes were small and the nose
- hooked. Clever at all games of cards, a good hunter, and writing
- a fine hand, he had at home a lathe, and amused himself by
- turning napkin rings, with which he filled up his house, with the
- jealousy of an artist and the egotism of a bourgeois.</p>
-<p>He went to the small parlour, but the three millers had to be got
- out first, and during the whole time necessary for laying the
- cloth, Binet remained silent in his place near the stove. Then he
- shut the door and took off his cap in his usual way.</p>
-<p>&quot;It isn't with saying civil things that he'll wear out his
- tongue,&quot; said the chemist, as soon as he was along with the
- landlady.</p>
-<p>&quot;He never talks more,&quot; she replied. &quot;Last week two travelers
- in
- the cloth line were here--such clever chaps who told such jokes
- in the evening, that I fairly cried with laughing; and he stood
- there like a dab fish and never said a word.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; observed the chemist; &quot;no imagination, no sallies, nothing
- that makes the society-man.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yet they say he has parts,&quot; objected the landlady.</p>
-<p>&quot;Parts!&quot; replied Monsieur Homais; &quot;he, parts! In his own line
- it
- is possible,&quot; he added in a calmer tone. And he went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! That a merchant, who has large connections, a jurisconsult,
- a doctor, a chemist, should be thus absent-minded, that the
- should become whimsical or even peevish, I can understand; such
- cases are cited in history. But at least it is because they are
- thinking of something. Myself, for example, how often has it
- happened to me to look on the bureau for my pen to write a label,
- and to find, after all, that I had put it behind my ear!&quot;</p>
-<p>Madame Lefrancois just then went to the door to see if the
- &quot;Hirondelle&quot; were not coming. She started. A man dressed in black
- suddenly came into the kitchen. By the last gleam of the twilight
- one could see that his face was rubicund and his form athletic.</p>
-<p>&quot;What can I do for you, Monsieur le Curie?&quot; asked the landlady,
- as she reached down from the chimney one of the copper
- candlesticks placed with their candles in a row. &quot;Will you take
- something? A thimbleful of Cassis*? A glass of wine?&quot;</p>
-<p>*Black currant liqueur.</p>
-<p>The priest declined very politely. He had come for his umbrella,
- that he had forgotten the other day at the Ernemont convent, and
- after asking Madame Lefrancois to have it sent to him at the
- presbytery in the evening, he left for the church, from which the
- Angelus was ringing.</p>
-<p>When the chemist no longer heard the noise of his boots along the
- square, he thought the priest's behaviour just now very
- unbecoming. This refusal to take any refreshment seemed to him
- the most odious hypocrisy; all priests tippled on the sly, and
- were trying to bring back the days of the tithe.</p>
-<p>The landlady took up the defence of her curie.</p>
-<p>&quot;Besides, he could double up four men like you over his knee.
- Last year he helped our people to bring in the straw; he carried
- as many as six trusses at once, he is so strong.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Bravo!&quot; said the chemist. &quot;Now just send your daughters to
- confess to fellows which such a temperament! I, if I were the
- Government, I'd have the priests bled once a month. Yes, Madame
- Lefrancois, every month--a good phlebotomy, in the interests of
- the police and morals.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Be quiet, Monsieur Homais. You are an infidel; you've no
- religion.&quot;</p>
-<p>The chemist answered: &quot;I have a religion, my religion, and I even
- have more than all these others with their mummeries and their
- juggling. I adore God, on the contrary. I believe in the Supreme
- Being, in a Creator, whatever he may be. I care little who has
- placed us here below to fulfil our duties as citizens and fathers
- of families; but I don't need to go to church to kiss silver
- plates, and fatten, out of my pocket, a lot of good-for-nothings
- who live better than we do. For one can know Him as well in a
- wood, in a field, or even contemplating the eternal vault like
- the ancients. My God! Mine is the God of Socrates, of Franklin,
- of Voltaire, and of Beranger! I am for the profession of faith of
- the 'Savoyard Vicar,' and the immortal principles of '89! And I
- can't admit of an old boy of a God who takes walks in his garden
- with a cane in his hand, who lodges his friends in the belly of
- whales, dies uttering a cry, and rises again at the end of three
- days; things absurd in themselves, and completely opposed,
- moreover, to all physical laws, which prove to us, by the way,
- that priests have always wallowed in turpid ignorance, in which
- they would fain engulf the people with them.&quot;</p>
-<p>He ceased, looking round for an audience, for in his bubbling
- over the chemist had for a moment fancied himself in the midst of
- the town council. But the landlady no longer heeded him; she was
- listening to a distant rolling. One could distinguish the noise
- of a carriage mingled with the clattering of loose horseshoes
- that beat against the ground, and at last the &quot;Hirondelle&quot;
- stopped at the door.</p>
-<p>It was a yellow box on two large wheels, that, reaching to the
- tilt, prevented travelers from seeing the road and dirtied their
- shoulders. The small panes of the narrow windows rattled in their
- sashes when the coach was closed, and retained here and there
- patches of mud amid the old layers of dust, that not even storms
- of rain had altogether washed away. It was drawn by three horses,
- the first a leader, and when it came down-hill its bottom jolted
- against the ground.</p>
-<p>Some of the inhabitants of Yonville came out into the square;
- they all spoke at once, asking for news, for explanations, for
- hampers. Hivert did not know whom to answer. It was he who did
- the errands of the place in town. He went to the shops and
- brought back rolls of leather for the shoemaker, old iron for the
- farrier, a barrel of herrings for his mistress, caps from the
- milliner's, locks from the hair-dresser's and all along the road
- on his return journey he distributed his parcels, which he threw,
- standing upright on his seat and shouting at the top of his
- voice, over the enclosures of the yards.</p>
-<p>An accident had delayed him. Madame Bovary's greyhound had run
- across the field. They had whistled for him a quarter of an hour;
- Hivert had even gone back a mile and a half expecting every
- moment to catch sight of her; but it had been necessary to go on.</p>
-<p>Emma had wept, grown angry; she had accused Charles of this misfortune. Monsieur
- Lheureux, a draper, who happened to be in the coach with her, had tried to console
- her by a number of examples of lost dogs recognizing their masters at the end
- of long years. One, he said had been told of, who had come back to Paris from
- Constantinople. Another had gone one hundred and fifty miles in a straight line,
- and swum four rivers; and his own father had possessed a poodle, which, after
- twelve years of absence, had all of a sudden jumped on his back in the street
- as he was going to dine in town.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Two</h3>
-<p>Emma got out first, then Felicite, Monsieur Lheureux, and a
- nurse, and they had to wake up Charles in his corner, where he
- had slept soundly since night set in.</p>
-<p>Homais introduced himself; he offered his homages to madame and
- his respects to monsieur; said he was charmed to have been able
- to render them some slight service, and added with a cordial air
- that he had ventured to invite himself, his wife being away.</p>
-<p>When Madame Bovary was in the kitchen she went up to the chimney.</p>
-<p>With the tips of her fingers she caught her dress at the knee,
- and having thus pulled it up to her ankle, held out her foot in
- its black boot to the fire above the revolving leg of mutton. The
- flame lit up the whole of her, penetrating with a crude light the
- woof of her gowns, the fine pores of her fair skin, and even her
- eyelids, which she blinked now and again. A great red glow passed
- over her with the blowing of the wind through the half-open door.</p>
-<p>On the other side of the chimney a young man with fair hair
- watched her silently.</p>
-<p>As he was a good deal bored at Yonville, where he was a clerk at
- the notary's, Monsieur Guillaumin, Monsieur Leon Dupuis (it was
- he who was the second habitue of the &quot;Lion d'Or&quot;) frequently put
- back his dinner-hour in hope that some traveler might come to the
- inn, with whom he could chat in the evening. On the days when his
- work was done early, he had, for want of something else to do, to
- come punctually, and endure from soup to cheese a tete-a-tete
- with Binet. It was therefore with delight that he accepted the
- landlady's suggestion that he should dine in company with the
- newcomers, and they passed into the large parlour where Madame
- Lefrancois, for the purpose of showing off, had had the table
- laid for four.</p>
-<p>Homais asked to be allowed to keep on his skull-cap, for fear of
- coryza; then, turning to his neighbour--</p>
-<p>&quot;Madame is no doubt a little fatigued; one gets jolted so
- abominably in our 'Hirondelle.'&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;That is true,&quot; replied Emma; &quot;but moving about always amuses
- me.
- I like change of place.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;It is so tedious,&quot; sighed the clerk, &quot;to be always riveted
- to
- the same places.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;If you were like me,&quot; said Charles, &quot;constantly obliged to
- be in
- the saddle&quot;--</p>
-<p>&quot;But,&quot; Leon went on, addressing himself to Madame Bovary,
- &quot;nothing, it seems to me, is more pleasant--when one can,&quot; he
- added.</p>
-<p>&quot;Moreover,&quot; said the druggist, &quot;the practice of medicine is
- not very hard work in our part of the world, for the state of our roads allows
- us the use of gigs, and generally, as the farmers are prosperous, they pay pretty
- well. We have, medically speaking, besides the ordinary cases of enteritis,
- bronchitis, bilious affections, etc., now and then a few intermittent fevers
- at harvest-time; but on the whole, little of a serious nature, nothing special
- to note, unless it be a great deal of scrofula, due, no doubt, to the deplorable
- hygienic conditions of our peasant dwellings. Ah! you will find many prejudices
- to combat, Monsieur Bovary, much obstinacy of routine, with which all the efforts
- of your science will daily come into collision; for people still have recourse
- to novenas, to relics, to the priest, rather than come straight to the doctor
- of the chemist. The climate, however, is not, truth to tell, bad, and we even
- have a few nonagenarians in our parish. The thermometer (I have made some observations)
- falls in winter to 4 degrees Centigrade at the outside, which gives us 24 degrees
- Reaumur as the maximum, or otherwise 54 degrees Fahrenheit (English scale),
- not more. And, as a matter of fact, we are sheltered from the north winds by
- the forest of Argueil on the one side, from the west winds by the St. Jean range
- on the other; and this heat, moreover, which, on account of the aqueous vapours
- given off by the river and the considerable number of cattle in the fields,
- which, as you know, exhale much ammonia, that is to say, nitrogen, hydrogen
- and oxygen (no, nitrogen and hydrogen alone), and which sucking up into itself
- the humus from the ground, mixing together all those different emanations, unites
- them into a stack, so to say, and combining with the electricity diffused through
- the atmosphere, when there is any, might in the long run, as in tropical countries,
- engender insalubrious miasmata--this heat, I say, finds itself perfectly tempered
- on the side whence it comes, or rather whence it should come--that is to say,
- the southern side-- by the south-eastern winds, which, having cooled themselves
- passing over the Seine, reach us sometimes all at once like breezes from Russia.&quot;</p>
-<p>At any rate, you have some walks in the neighbourhood?&quot;
- continued Madame Bovary, speaking to the young man.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, very few,&quot; he answered. &quot;There is a place they call La
- Pature, on the top of the hill, on the edge of the forest.
- Sometimes, on Sundays, I go and stay there with a book, watching
- the sunset.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I think there is nothing so admirable as sunsets,&quot; she resumed;
- &quot;but especially by the side of the sea.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, I adore the sea!&quot; said Monsieur Leon.</p>
-<p>&quot;And then, does it not seem to you,&quot; continued Madame Bovary,
- &quot;that the mind travels more freely on this limitless expanse, the
- contemplation of which elevates the soul, gives ideas of the
- infinite, the ideal?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;It is the same with mountainous landscapes,&quot; continued Leon. &quot;A
- cousin of mine who travelled in Switzerland last year told me
- that one could not picture to oneself the poetry of the lakes,
- the charm of the waterfalls, the gigantic effect of the glaciers.
- One sees pines of incredible size across torrents, cottages
- suspended over precipices, and, a thousand feet below one, whole
- valleys when the clouds open. Such spectacles must stir to
- enthusiasm, incline to prayer, to ecstasy; and I no longer marvel
- at that celebrated musician who, the better to inspire his
- imagination, was in the habit of playing the piano before some
- imposing site.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;You play?&quot; she asked.</p>
-<p>&quot;No, but I am very fond of music,&quot; he replied.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! don't you listen to him, Madame Bovary,&quot; interrupted Homais,
- bending over his plate. &quot;That's sheer modesty. Why, my dear
- fellow, the other day in your room you were singing 'L'Ange
- Gardien' ravishingly. I heard you from the laboratory. You gave
- it like an actor.&quot;</p>
-<p>Leon, in fact, lodged at the chemist's where he had a small room
- on the second floor, overlooking the Place. He blushed at the
- compliment of his landlord, who had already turned to the doctor,
- and was enumerating to him, one after the other, all the
- principal inhabitants of Yonville. He was telling anecdotes,
- giving information; the fortune of the notary was not known
- exactly, and &quot;there was the Tuvache household,&quot; who made a good
- deal of show.</p>
-<p>Emma continued, &quot;And what music do you prefer?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, German music; that which makes you dream.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Have you been to the opera?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Not yet; but I shall go next year, when I am living at Paris to
- finish reading for the bar.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;As I had the honour of putting it to your husband,&quot; said the
- chemist, &quot;with regard to this poor Yanoda who has run away, you
- will find yourself, thanks to his extravagance, in the possession
- of one of the most comfortable houses of Yonville. Its greatest
- convenience for a doctor is a door giving on the Walk, where one
- can go in and out unseen. Moreover, it contains everything that
- is agreeable in a household--a laundry, kitchen with offices,
- sitting-room, fruit-room, and so on. He was a gay dog, who didn't
- care what he spent. At the end of the garden, by the side of the
- water, he had an arbour built just for the purpose of drinking
- beer in summer; and if madame is fond of gardening she will be
- able--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;My wife doesn't care about it,&quot; said Charles; &quot;although she
- has
- been advised to take exercise, she prefers always sitting in her
- room reading.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Like me,&quot; replied Leon. &quot;And indeed, what is better than to
- sit
- by one's fireside in the evening with a book, while the wind
- beats against the window and the lamp is burning?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What, indeed?&quot; she said, fixing her large black eyes wide open
- upon him.</p>
-<p>&quot;One thinks of nothing,&quot; he continued; &quot;the hours slip by.
- Motionless we traverse countries we fancy we see, and your
- thought, blinding with the fiction, playing with the details,
- follows the outline of the adventures. It mingles with the
- characters, and it seems as if it were yourself palpitating
- beneath their costumes.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;That is true! That is true?&quot; she said.</p>
-<p>&quot;Has it ever happened to you,&quot; Leon went on, &quot;to come across
- some
- vague idea of one's own in a book, some dim image that comes back
- to you from afar, and as the completest expression of your own
- slightest sentiment?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I have experienced it,&quot; she replied.</p>
-<p>&quot;That is why,&quot; he said, &quot;I especially love the poets. I think
- verse more tender than prose, and that it moves far more easily
- to tears.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Still in the long run it is tiring,&quot; continued Emma. Now I, on
- the contrary, adore stories that rush breathlessly along, that
- frighten one. I detest commonplace heroes and moderate
- sentiments, such as there are in nature.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;In fact,&quot; observed the clerk, &quot;these works, not touching the
- heart, miss, it seems to me, the true end of art. It is so sweet,
- amid all the disenchantments of life, to be able to dwell in
- thought upon noble characters, pure affections, and pictures of
- happiness. For myself, living here far from the world, this is my
- one distraction; but Yonville affords so few resources.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Like Tostes, no doubt,&quot; replied Emma; &quot;and so I always
- subscribed to a lending library.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;If madame will do me the honour of making use of it&quot;, said the
- chemist, who had just caught the last words, &quot;I have at her
- disposal a library composed of the best authors, Voltaire,
- Rousseau, Delille, Walter Scott, the 'Echo des Feuilletons'; and
- in addition I receive various periodicals, among them the 'Fanal
- de Rouen' daily, having the advantage to be its correspondent for
- the districts of Buchy, Forges, Neufchatel, Yonville, and
- vicinity.&quot;</p>
-<p>For two hours and a half they had been at table; for the servant
- Artemis, carelessly dragging her old list slippers over the
- flags, brought one plate after the other, forgot everything, and
- constantly left the door of the billiard-room half open, so that
- it beat against the wall with its hooks.</p>
-<p>Unconsciously, Leon, while talking, had placed his foot on one of
- the bars of the chair on which Madame Bovary was sitting. She
- wore a small blue silk necktie, that kept up like a ruff a
- gauffered cambric collar, and with the movements of her head the
- lower part of her face gently sunk into the linen or came out
- from it. Thus side by side, while Charles and the chemist
- chatted, they entered into one of those vague conversations where
- the hazard of all that is said brings you back to the fixed
- centre of a common sympathy. The Paris theatres, titles of
- novels, new quadrilles, and the world they did not know; Tostes,
- where she had lived, and Yonville, where they were; they examined
- all, talked of everything till to the end of dinner.</p>
-<p>When coffee was served Felicite went away to get ready the room
- in the new house, and the guests soon raised the siege. Madame
- Lefrancois was asleep near the cinders, while the stable-boy,
- lantern in hand, was waiting to show Monsieur and Madame Bovary
- the way home. Bits of straw stuck in his red hair, and he limped
- with his left leg. When he had taken in his other hand the cure's
- umbrella, they started.</p>
-<p>The town was asleep; the pillars of the market threw great
- shadows; the earth was all grey as on a summer's night. But as
- the doctor's house was only some fifty paces from the inn, they
- had to say good-night almost immediately, and the company
- dispersed.</p>
-<p>As soon as she entered the passage, Emma felt the cold of the
- plaster fall about her shoulders like damp linen. The walls were
- new and the wooden stairs creaked. In their bedroom, on the first
- floor, a whitish light passed through the curtainless windows.</p>
-<p>She could catch glimpses of tree tops, and beyond, the fields,
- half-drowned in the fog that lay reeking in the moonlight along
- the course of the river. In the middle of the room, pell-mell,
- were scattered drawers, bottles, curtain-rods, gilt poles, with
- mattresses on the chairs and basins on the ground--the two men
- who had brought the furniture had left everything about
- carelessly.</p>
-<p>This was the fourth time that she had slept in a strange place.</p>
-<p>The first was the day of her going to the convent; the second, of her arrival
- at Tostes; the third, at Vaubyessard; and this was the fourth. And each one
- had marked, as it were, the inauguration of a new phase in her life. She did
- not believe that things could present themselves in the same way in different
- places, and since the portion of her life lived had been bad, no doubt that
- which remained to be lived would be better.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Three</h3>
-<p>The next day, as she was getting up, she saw the clerk on the
- Place. She had on a dressing-gown. He looked up and bowed. She
- nodded quickly and reclosed the window.</p>
-<p>Leon waited all day for six o'clock in the evening to come, but
- on going to the inn, he found no one but Monsieur Binet, already
- at table. The dinner of the evening before had been a
- considerable event for him; he had never till then talked for two
- hours consecutively to a &quot;lady.&quot; How then had he been able to
- explain, and in such language, the number of things that he could
- not have said so well before? He was usually shy, and maintained
- that reserve which partakes at once of modesty and dissimulation.</p>
-<p>At Yonville he was considered &quot;well-bred.&quot; He listened to the
- arguments of the older people, and did not seem hot about
- politics--a remarkable thing for a young man. Then he had some
- accomplishments; he painted in water-colours, could read the key
- of G, and readily talked literature after dinner when he did not
- play cards. Monsieur Homais respected him for his education;
- Madame Homais liked him for his good-nature, for he often took
- the little Homais into the garden--little brats who were always
- dirty, very much spoilt, and somewhat lymphatic, like their
- mother. Besides the servant to look after them, they had Justin,
- the chemist's apprentice, a second cousin of Monsieur Homais, who
- had been taken into the house from charity, and who was useful at
- the same time as a servant.</p>
-<p>The druggist proved the best of neighbours. He gave Madame Bovary
- information as to the trades-people, sent expressly for his own
- cider merchant, tasted the drink himself, and saw that the casks
- were properly placed in the cellar; he explained how to set about
- getting in a supply of butter cheap, and made an arrangement with
- Lestiboudois, the sacristan, who, besides his sacerdotal and
- funeral functions, looked after the principal gardens at Yonville
- by the hour or the year, according to the taste of the customers.</p>
-<p>The need of looking after others was not the only thing that
- urged the chemist to such obsequious cordiality; there was a plan
- underneath it all.</p>
-<p>He had infringed the law of the 19th Ventose, year xi., article
- I, which forbade all persons not having a diploma to practise
- medicine; so that, after certain anonymous denunciations, Homais
- had been summoned to Rouen to see the procurer of the king in his
- own private room; the magistrate receiving him standing up,
- ermine on shoulder and cap on head. It was in the morning, before
- the court opened. In the corridors one heard the heavy boots of
- the gendarmes walking past, and like a far-off noise great locks
- that were shut. The druggist's ears tingled as if he were about
- to have an apoplectic stroke; he saw the depths of dungeons, his
- family in tears, his shop sold, all the jars dispersed; and he
- was obliged to enter a cafe and take a glass of rum and seltzer
- to recover his spirits.</p>
-<p>Little by little the memory of this reprimand grew fainter, and
- he continued, as heretofore, to give anodyne consultations in his
- back-parlour. But the mayor resented it, his colleagues were
- jealous, everything was to be feared; gaining over Monsieur
- Bovary by his attentions was to earn his gratitude, and prevent
- his speaking out later on, should he notice anything. So every
- morning Homais brought him &quot;the paper,&quot; and often in the
- afternoon left his shop for a few moments to have a chat with the
- Doctor.</p>
-<p>Charles was dull: patients did not come. He remained seated for
- hours without speaking, went into his consulting room to sleep,
- or watched his wife sewing. Then for diversion he employed
- himself at home as a workman; he even tried to do up the attic
- with some paint which had been left behind by the painters. But
- money matters worried him. He had spent so much for repairs at
- Tostes, for madame's toilette, and for the moving, that the whole
- dowry, over three thousand crowns, had slipped away in two years.</p>
-<p>Then how many things had been spoilt or lost during their
- carriage from Tostes to Yonville, without counting the plaster
- cure, who falling out of the coach at an over-severe jolt, had
- been dashed into a thousand fragments on the pavements of
- Quincampoix! A pleasanter trouble came to distract him, namely,
- the pregnancy of his wife. As the time of her confinement
- approached he cherished her the more. It was another bond of the
- flesh establishing itself, and, as it were, a continued sentiment
- of a more complex union. When from afar he saw her languid walk,
- and her figure without stays turning softly on her hips; when
- opposite one another he looked at her at his ease, while she took
- tired poses in her armchair, then his happiness knew no bounds;
- he got up, embraced her, passed his hands over her face, called
- her little mamma, wanted to make her dance, and half-laughing,
- half-crying, uttered all kinds of caressing pleasantries that
- came into his head. The idea of having begotten a child delighted
- him. Now he wanted nothing. He knew human life from end to end,
- and he sat down to it with serenity.</p>
-<p>Emma at first felt a great astonishment; then was anxious to be
- delivered that she might know what it was to be a mother. But not
- being able to spend as much as she would have liked, to have a
- swing-bassinette with rose silk curtains, and embroidered caps,
- in a fit of bitterness she gave up looking after the trousseau,
- and ordered the whole of it from a village needlewoman, without
- choosing or discussing anything. Thus she did not amuse herself
- with those preparations that stimulate the tenderness of mothers,
- and so her affection was from the very outset, perhaps, to some
- extent attenuated.</p>
-<p>As Charles, however, spoke of the boy at every meal, she soon
- began to think of him more consecutively.</p>
-<p>She hoped for a son; he would be strong and dark; she would call
- him George; and this idea of having a male child was like an
- expected revenge for all her impotence in the past. A man, at
- least, is free; he may travel over passions and over countries,
- overcome obstacles, taste of the most far-away pleasures. But a
- woman is always hampered. At once inert and flexible, she has
- against her the weakness of the flesh and legal dependence. Her
- will, like the veil of her bonnet, held by a string, flutters in
- every wind; there is always some desire that draws her, some
- conventionality that restrains.</p>
-<p>She was confined on a Sunday at about six o'clock, as the sun was
- rising.</p>
-<p>&quot;It is a girl!&quot; said Charles.</p>
-<p>She turned her head away and fainted.</p>
-<p>Madame Homais, as well as Madame Lefrancois of the Lion d'Or,
- almost immediately came running in to embrace her. The chemist,
- as man of discretion, only offered a few provincial felicitations
- through the half-opened door. He wished to see the child and
- thought it well made.</p>
-<p>Whilst she was getting well she occupied herself much in seeking
- a name for her daughter. First she went over all those that have
- Italian endings, such as Clara, Louisa, Amanda, Atala; she liked
- Galsuinde pretty well, and Yseult or Leocadie still better.</p>
-<p>Charles wanted the child to be called after her mother; Emma
- opposed this. They ran over the calendar from end to end, and
- then consulted outsiders.</p>
-<p>&quot;Monsieur Leon,&quot; said the chemist, &quot;with whom I was talking
- about
- it the other day, wonders you do not chose Madeleine. It is very
- much in fashion just now.&quot;</p>
-<p>But Madame Bovary, senior, cried out loudly against this name of
- a sinner. As to Monsieur Homais, he had a preference for all
- those that recalled some great man, an illustrious fact, or a
- generous idea, and it was on this system that he had baptized his
- four children. Thus Napoleon represented glory and Franklin
- liberty; Irma was perhaps a concession to romanticism, but
- Athalie was a homage to the greatest masterpiece of the French
- stage. For his philosophical convictions did not interfere with
- his artistic tastes; in him the thinker did not stifle the man of
- sentiment; he could make distinctions, make allowances for
- imagination and fanaticism. In this tragedy, for example, he
- found fault with the ideas, but admired the style; he detested
- the conception, but applauded all the details, and loathed the
- characters while he grew enthusiastic over their dialogue. When
- he read the fine passages he was transported, but when he thought
- that mummers would get something out of them for their show, he
- was disconsolate; and in this confusion of sentiments in which he
- was involved he would have like at once to crown Racine with both
- his hands and discuss with him for a good quarter of an hour.</p>
-<p>At last Emma remembered that at the chateau of Vaubyessard she had heard the
- Marchioness call a young lady Berthe; from that moment this name was chosen;
- and as old Rouault could not come, Monsieur Homais was requested to stand godfather.
- His gifts were all products from his establishment, to wit: six boxes of jujubes,
- a whole jar of racahout, three cakes of marshmallow paste, and six sticks of
- sugar-candy into the bargain that he had come across in a cupboard. On the evening
- of the ceremony there was a grand dinner; the cure was present; there was much
- excitement. Monsieur Homais towards liqueur-time began singing &quot;Le Dieu
- des bonnes gens.&quot; Monsieur Leon sang a barcarolle, and Madame Bovary, senior,
- who was godmother, a romance of the time of the Empire; finally, M. Bovary,
- senior, insisted on having the child brought down, and began baptizing it with
- a glass of champagne that he poured over its head. This mockery of the first
- of the sacraments made the Abbe Bournisien angry; old Bovary replied by a quotation
- from &quot;La Guerre des Dieux&quot;; the cure wanted to leave; the ladies implored,
- Homais interfered; and they succeeded in making the priest sit down again, and
- he quietly went on with the half-finished coffee in his saucer. </p>
-<p>Monsieur Bovary, senior, stayed at Yonville a month, dazzling the
- native by a superb policeman's cap with silver tassels that he
- wore in the morning when he smoked his pipe in the square. Being
- also in the habit of drinking a good deal of brandy, he often
- sent the servant to the Lion d'Or to buy him a bottle, which was
- put down to his son's account, and to perfume his handkerchiefs
- he used up his daughter-in-law's whole supply of eau-de-cologne.</p>
-<p>The latter did not at all dislike his company. He had knocked
- about the world, he talked about Berlin, Vienna, and Strasbourg,
- of his soldier times, of the mistresses he had had, the grand
- luncheons of which he had partaken; then he was amiable, and
- sometimes even, either on the stairs, or in the garden, would
- seize hold of her waist, crying, &quot;Charles, look out for
- yourself.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then Madame Bovary, senior, became alarmed for her son's
- happiness, and fearing that her husband might in the long-run
- have an immoral influence upon the ideas of the young woman, took
- care to hurry their departure. Perhaps she had more serious
- reasons for uneasiness. Monsieur Bovary was not the man to
- respect anything.</p>
-<p>One day Emma was suddenly seized with the desire to see her
- little girl, who had been put to nurse with the carpenter's wife,
- and, without looking at the calendar to see whether the six weeks
- of the Virgin were yet passed, she set out for the Rollets'
- house, situated at the extreme end of the village, between the
- highroad and the fields.</p>
-<p>It was mid-day, the shutters of the houses were closed and the
- slate roofs that glittered beneath the fierce light of the blue
- sky seemed to strike sparks from the crest of the gables. A heavy
- wind was blowing; Emma felt weak as she walked; the stones of the
- pavement hurt her; she was doubtful whether she would not go home
- again, or go in somewhere to rest.</p>
-<p>At this moment Monsieur Leon came out from a neighbouring door
- with a bundle of papers under his arm. He came to greet her, and
- stood in the shade in front of the Lheureux's shop under the
- projecting grey awning.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary said she was going to see her baby, but that she
- was beginning to grow tired.</p>
-<p>&quot;If--&quot; said Leon, not daring to go on.</p>
-<p>&quot;Have you any business to attend to?&quot; she asked.</p>
-<p>And on the clerk's answer, she begged him to accompany her. That
- same evening this was known in Yonville, and Madame Tuvache, the
- mayor's wife, declared in the presence of her servant that
- &quot;Madame Bovary was compromising herself.&quot;</p>
-<p>To get to the nurse's it was necessary to turn to the left on
- leaving the street, as if making for the cemetery, and to follow
- between little houses and yards a small path bordered with privet
- hedges. They were in bloom, and so were the speedwells,
- eglantines, thistles, and the sweetbriar that sprang up from the
- thickets. Through openings in the hedges one could see into the
- huts, some pigs on a dung-heap, or tethered cows rubbing their
- horns against the trunk of trees. The two, side by side walked
- slowly, she leaning upon him, and he restraining his pace, which
- he regulated by hers; in front of them a swarm of midges
- fluttered, buzzing in the warm air.</p>
-<p>The recognized the house by an old walnut-tree which shaded it.</p>
-<p>Low and covered with brown tiles, there hung outside it, beneath
- the dormer-window of the garret, a string of onions. Faggots
- upright against a thorn fence surrounded a bed of lettuce, a few
- square feet of lavender, and sweet peas stung on sticks. Dirty
- water was running here and there on the grass, and all round were
- several indefinite rags, knitted stockings, a red calico jacket,
- and a large sheet of coarse linen spread over the hedge. At the
- noise of the gate the nurse appeared with a baby she was suckling
- on one arm. With her other hand she was pulling along a poor puny
- little fellow, his face covered with scrofula, the son of a Rouen
- hosier, whom his parents, too taken up with their business, left
- in the country.</p>
-<p>&quot;Go in,&quot; she said; &quot;your little one is there asleep.&quot;</p>
-<p>The room on the ground-floor, the only one in the dwelling, had
- at its farther end, against the wall, a large bed without
- curtains, while a kneading-trough took up the side by the window,
- one pane of which was mended with a piece of blue paper. In the
- corner behind the door, shining hob-nailed shoes stood in a row
- under the slab of the washstand, near a bottle of oil with a
- feather stuck in its mouth; a Matthieu Laensberg lay on the dusty
- mantelpiece amid gunflints, candle-ends, and bits of amadou.</p>
-<p>Finally, the last luxury in the apartment was a &quot;Fame&quot; blowing
- her trumpets, a picture cut out, no doubt, from some perfumer's
- prospectus and nailed to the wall with six wooden shoe-pegs.</p>
-<p>Emma's child was asleep in a wicker-cradle. She took it up in the
- wrapping that enveloped it and began singing softly as she rocked
- herself to and fro.</p>
-<p>Leon walked up and down the room; it seemed strange to him to see
- this beautiful woman in her nankeen dress in the midst of all
- this poverty. Madam Bovary reddened; he turned away, thinking
- perhaps there had been an impertinent look in his eyes. Then she
- put back the little girl, who had just been sick over her collar.</p>
-<p>The nurse at once came to dry her, protesting that it wouldn't
- show.</p>
-<p>&quot;She gives me other doses,&quot; she said: &quot;I am always a-washing
- of
- her. If you would have the goodness to order Camus, the grocer,
- to let me have a little soap, it would really be more convenient
- for you, as I needn't trouble you then.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Very well! very well!&quot; said Emma. &quot;Good morning, Madame Rollet,&quot;
- and she went out, wiping her shoes at the door.</p>
-<p>The good woman accompanied her to the end of the garden, talking
- all the time of the trouble she had getting up of nights.</p>
-<p>&quot;I'm that worn out sometimes as I drop asleep on my chair. I'm
- sure you might at least give me just a pound of ground coffee;
- that'd last me a month, and I'd take it of a morning with some
- milk.&quot;</p>
-<p>After having submitted to her thanks, Madam Bovary left. She had
- gone a little way down the path when, at the sound of wooden
- shoes, she turned round. It was the nurse.</p>
-<p>&quot;What is it?&quot;</p>
-<p>Then the peasant woman, taking her aside behind an elm tree,
- began talking to her of her husband, who with his trade and six
- francs a year that the captain--</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, be quick!&quot; said Emma.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well,&quot; the nurse went on, heaving sighs between each word, &quot;I'm
- afraid he'll be put out seeing me have coffee along, you know
- men--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But you are to have some,&quot; Emma repeated; &quot;I will give you
- some.
- You bother me!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, dear! my poor, dear lady! you see in consequence of his
- wounds he has terrible cramps in the chest. He even says that
- cider weakens him.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Do make haste, Mere Rollet!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Well,&quot; the latter continued, making a curtsey, &quot;if it weren't
- asking too much,&quot; and she curtsied once more, &quot;if you would&quot;--and
- her eyes begged--&quot;a jar of brandy,&quot; she said at last, &quot;and I'd
- rub your little one's feet with it; they're as tender as one's
- tongue.&quot;</p>
-<p>Once rid of the nurse, Emma again took Monsieur Leon's arm. She
- walked fast for some time, then more slowly, and looking straight
- in front of her, her eyes rested on the shoulder of the young
- man, whose frock-coat had a black-velvety collar. His brown hair
- fell over it, straight and carefully arranged. She noticed his
- nails which were longer than one wore them at Yonville. It was
- one of the clerk's chief occupations to trim them, and for this
- purpose he kept a special knife in his writing desk.</p>
-<p>They returned to Yonville by the water-side. In the warm season
- the bank, wider than at other times, showed to their foot the
- garden walls whence a few steps led to the river. It flowed
- noiselessly, swift, and cold to the eye; long, thin grasses
- huddled together in it as the current drove them, and spread
- themselves upon the limpid water like streaming hair; sometimes
- at the tip of the reeds or on the leaf of a water-lily an insect
- with fine legs crawled or rested. The sun pierced with a ray the
- small blue bubbles of the waves that, breaking, followed each
- other; branchless old willows mirrored their grey backs in the
- water; beyond, all around, the meadows seemed empty. It was the
- dinner-hour at the farms, and the young woman and her companion
- heard nothing as they walked but the fall of their steps on the
- earth of the path, the words they spoke, and the sound of Emma's
- dress rustling round her.</p>
-<p>The walls of the gardens with pieces of bottle on their coping
- were hot as the glass windows of a conservatory. Wallflowers had
- sprung up between the bricks, and with the tip of her open
- sunshade Madame Bovary, as she passed, made some of their faded
- flowers crumble into a yellow dust, or a spray of overhanging
- honeysuckle and clematis caught in its fringe and dangled for a
- moment over the silk.</p>
-<p>They were talking of a troupe of Spanish dancers who were
- expected shortly at the Rouen theatre.</p>
-<p>&quot;Are you going?&quot; she asked.</p>
-<p>&quot;If I can,&quot; he answered.</p>
-<p>Had they nothing else to say to one another? Yet their eyes were
- full of more serious speech, and while they forced themselves to
- find trivial phrases, they felt the same languor stealing over
- them both. It was the whisper of the soul, deep, continuous,
- dominating that of their voices. Surprised with wonder at this
- strange sweetness, they did not think of speaking of the
- sensation or of seeking its cause. Coming joys, like tropical
- shores, throw over the immensity before them their inborn
- softness, an odorous wind, and we are lulled by this intoxication
- without a thought of the horizon that we do not even know.</p>
-<p>In one place the ground had been trodden down by the cattle; they
- had to step on large green stones put here and there in the mud.</p>
-<p>She often stopped a moment to look where to place her foot, and
- tottering on a stone that shook, her arms outspread, her form
- bent forward with a look of indecision, she would laugh, afraid
- of falling into the puddles of water.</p>
-<p>When they arrived in front of her garden, Madame Bovary opened
- the little gate, ran up the steps and disappeared.</p>
-<p>Leon returned to his office. His chief was away; he just glanced
- at the briefs, then cut himself a pen, and at last took up his
- hat and went out.</p>
-<p>He went to La Pature at the top of the Argueil hills at the
- beginning of the forest; he threw himself upon the ground under
- the pines and watched the sky through his fingers.</p>
-<p>&quot;How bored I am!&quot; he said to himself, &quot;how bored I am!&quot;</p>
-<p>He thought he was to be pitied for living in this village, with
- Homais for a friend and Monsieru Guillaumin for master. The
- latter, entirely absorbed by his business, wearing gold-rimmed
- spectacles and red whiskers over a white cravat, understood
- nothing of mental refinements, although he affected a stiff
- English manner, which in the beginning had impressed the clerk.</p>
-<p>As to the chemist's spouse, she was the best wife in Normandy,
- gentle as a sheep, loving her children, her father, her mother,
- her cousins, weeping for other's woes, letting everything go in
- her household, and detesting corsets; but so slow of movement,
- such a bore to listen to, so common in appearance, and of such
- restricted conversation, that although she was thirty, he only
- twenty, although they slept in rooms next each other and he spoke
- to her daily, he never thought that she might be a woman for
- another, or that she possessed anything else of her sex than the
- gown.</p>
-<p>And what else was there? Binet, a few shopkeepers, two or three
- publicans, the cure, and finally, Monsieur Tuvache, the mayor,
- with his two sons, rich, crabbed, obtuse persons, who farmed
- their own lands and had feasts among themselves, bigoted to boot,
- and quite unbearable companions.</p>
-<p>But from the general background of all these human faces Emma's
- stood out isolated and yet farthest off; for between her and him
- he seemed to see a vague abyss.</p>
-<p>In the beginning he had called on her several times along with the druggist.
- Charles had not appeared particularly anxious to see him again, and Leon did
- not know what to do between his fear of being indiscreet and the desire for
- an intimacy that seemed almost impossible.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Four</h3>
-<p>When the first cold days set in Emma left her bedroom for the
- sitting-room, a long apartment with a low ceiling, in which there
- was on the mantelpiece a large bunch of coral spread out against
- the looking-glass. Seated in her arm chair near the window, she
- could see the villagers pass along the pavement.</p>
-<p>Twice a day Leon went from his office to the Lion d'Or. Emma
- could hear him coming from afar; she leant forward listening, and
- the young man glided past the curtain, always dressed in the same
- way, and without turning his head. But in the twilight, when, her
- chin resting on her left hand, she let the embroidery she had
- begun fall on her knees, she often shuddered at the apparition of
- this shadow suddenly gliding past. She would get up and order the
- table to be laid.</p>
-<p>Monsieur Homais called at dinner-time. Skull-cap in hand, he came
- in on tiptoe, in order to disturb no one, always repeating the
- same phrase, &quot;Good evening, everybody.&quot; Then, when he had taken
- his seat at the table between the pair, he asked the doctor about
- his patients, and the latter consulted his as to the probability
- of their payment. Next they talked of &quot;what was in the paper.&quot;</p>
-<p>Homais by this hour knew it almost by heart, and he repeated it
- from end to end, with the reflections of the penny-a-liners, and
- all the stories of individual catastrophes that had occurred in
- France or abroad. But the subject becoming exhausted, he was not
- slow in throwing out some remarks on the dishes before him.</p>
-<p>Sometimes even, half-rising, he delicately pointed out to madame
- the tenderest morsel, or turning to the servant, gave her some
- advice on the manipulation of stews and the hygiene of seasoning.</p>
-<p>He talked aroma, osmazome, juices, and gelatine in a bewildering
- manner. Moreover, Homais, with his head fuller of recipes than
- his shop of jars, excelled in making all kinds of preserves,
- vinegars, and sweet liqueurs; he knew also all the latest
- inventions in economic stoves, together with the art of
- preserving cheese and of curing sick wines.</p>
-<p>At eight o'clock Justin came to fetch him to shut up the shop.</p>
-<p>Then Monsieur Homais gave him a sly look, especially if Felicite
- was there, for he half noticed that his apprentice was fond of
- the doctor's house.</p>
-<p>&quot;The young dog,&quot; he said, &quot;is beginning to have ideas, and the
- devil take me if I don't believe he's in love with your servant!&quot;</p>
-<p>But a more serious fault with which he reproached Justin was his
- constantly listening to conversation. On Sunday, for example, one
- could not get him out of the drawing-room, whither Madame Homais
- had called him to fetch the children, who were falling asleep in
- the arm-chairs, and dragging down with their backs calico
- chair-covers that were too large.</p>
-<p>Not many people came to these soirees at the chemist's, his
- scandal-mongering and political opinions having successfully
- alienated various respectable persons from him. The clerk never
- failed to be there. As soon as he heard the bell he ran to meet
- Madame Bovary, took her shawl, and put away under the
- shop-counter the thick list shoes that she wore over her boots
- when there was snow.</p>
-<p>First they played some hands at trente-et-un; next Monsieur
- Homais played ecarte with Emma; Leon behind her gave her advice.</p>
-<p>Standing up with his hands on the back of her chair he saw the
- teeth of her comb that bit into her chignon. With every movement
- that she made to throw her cards the right side of her dress was
- drawn up. From her turned-up hair a dark colour fell over her
- back, and growing gradually paler, lost itself little by little
- in the shade. Then her dress fell on both sides of her chair,
- puffing out full of folds, and reached the ground. When Leon
- occasionally felt the sole of his boot resting on it, he drew
- back as if he had trodden upon some one.</p>
-<p>When the game of cards was over, the druggist and the Doctor
- played dominoes, and Emma, changing her place, leant her elbow on
- the table, turning over the leaves of &quot;L'Illustration&quot;. She had
- brought her ladies' journal with her. Leon sat down near her;
- they looked at the engravings together, and waited for one
- another at the bottom of the pages. She often begged him to read
- her the verses; Leon declaimed them in a languid voice, to which
- he carefully gave a dying fall in the love passages. But the
- noise of the dominoes annoyed him. Monsieur Homais was strong at
- the game; he could beat Charles and give him a double-six. Then
- the three hundred finished, they both stretched themselves out in
- front of the fire, and were soon asleep. The fire was dying out
- in the cinders; the teapot was empty, Leon was still reading.</p>
-<p>Emma listened to him, mechanically turning around the lampshade,
- on the gauze of which were painted clowns in carriages, and
- tight-rope dances with their balancing-poles. Leon stopped,
- pointing with a gesture to his sleeping audience; then they
- talked in low tones, and their conversation seemed the more sweet
- to them because it was unheard.</p>
-<p>Thus a kind of bond was established between them, a constant
- commerce of books and of romances. Monsieur Bovary, little given
- to jealousy, did not trouble himself about it.</p>
-<p>On his birthday he received a beautiful phrenological head, all
- marked with figures to the thorax and painted blue. This was an
- attention of the clerk's. He showed him many others, even to
- doing errands for him at Rouen; and the book of a novelist having
- made the mania for cactuses fashionable, Leon bought some for
- Madame Bovary, bringing them back on his knees in the
- &quot;Hirondelle,&quot; pricking his fingers on their hard hairs.</p>
-<p>She had a board with a balustrade fixed against her window to
- hold the pots. The clerk, too, had his small hanging garden; they
- saw each other tending their flowers at their windows.</p>
-<p>Of the windows of the village there was one yet more often
- occupied; for on Sundays from morning to night, and every morning
- when the weather was bright, one could see at the dormer-window
- of the garret the profile of Monsieur Binet bending over his
- lathe, whose monotonous humming could be heard at the Lion d'Or.</p>
-<p>One evening on coming home Leon found in his room a rug in velvet
- and wool with leaves on a pale ground. He called Madame Homais,
- Monsieur Homais, Justin, the children, the cook; he spoke of it
- to his chief; every one wanted to see this rug. Why did the
- doctor's wife give the clerk presents? It looked queer. They
- decided that she must be his lover.</p>
-<p>He made this seem likely, so ceaselessly did he talk of her
- charms and of her wit; so much so, that Binet once roughly
- answered him--</p>
-<p>&quot;What does it matter to me since I'm not in her set?&quot;</p>
-<p>He tortured himself to find out how he could make his declaration
- to her, and always halting between the fear of displeasing her
- and the shame of being such a coward, he wept with discouragement
- and desire. Then he took energetic resolutions, wrote letters
- that he tore up, put it off to times that he again deferred.</p>
-<p>Often he set out with the determination to dare all; but this resolution soon
- deserted him in Emma's presence, and when Charles, dropping in, invited him
- to jump into his chaise to go with him to see some patient in the neighbourhood,
- he at once accepted, bowed to madame, and went out. Her husband, was he not
- something belonging to her? As to Emma, she did not ask herself whether she
- loved. Love, she thought, must come suddenly, with great outbursts and lightnings--a
- hurricane of the skies, which falls upon life, revolutionises it, roots up the
- will like a leaf, and sweeps the whole heart into the abyss. She did not know
- that on the terrace of houses it makes lakes when the pipes are choked, and
- she would thus have remained in her security when she suddenly discovered a
- rent in the wall of it.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Five</h3>
-<p>It was a Sunday in February, an afternoon when the snow was
- falling.</p>
-<p>They had all, Monsieur and Madame Bovary, Homais, and Monsieur
- Leon, gone to see a yarn-mill that was being built in the valley
- a mile and a half from Yonville. The druggist had taken Napoleon
- and Athalie to give them some exercise, and Justin accompanied
- them, carrying the umbrellas on his shoulder.</p>
-<p>Nothing, however, could be less curious than this curiosity. A
- great piece of waste ground, on which pell-mell, amid a mass of
- sand and stones, were a few break-wheels, already rusty,
- surrounded by a quadrangular building pierced by a number of
- little windows. The building was unfinished; the sky could be
- seen through the joists of the roofing. Attached to the
- stop-plank of the gable a bunch of straw mixed with corn-ears
- fluttered its tricoloured ribbons in the wind.</p>
-<p>Homais was talking. He explained to the company the future
- importance of this establishment, computed the strength of the
- floorings, the thickness of the walls, and regretted extremely
- not having a yard-stick such as Monsieur Binet possessed for his
- own special use.</p>
-<p>Emma, who had taken his arm, bent lightly against his shoulder,
- and she looked at the sun's disc shedding afar through the mist
- his pale splendour. She turned. Charles was there. His cap was
- drawn down over his eyebrows, and his two thick lips were
- trembling, which added a look of stupidity to his face; his very
- back, his calm back, was irritating to behold, and she saw
- written upon his coat all the platitude of the bearer.</p>
-<p>While she was considering him thus, tasting in her irritation a
- sort of depraved pleasure, Leon made a step forward. The cold
- that made him pale seemed to add a more gentle languor to his
- face; between his cravat and his neck the somewhat loose collar
- of his shirt showed the skin; the lobe of his ear looked out from
- beneath a lock of hair, and his large blue eyes, raised to the
- clouds, seemed to Emma more limpid and more beautiful than those
- mountain-lakes where the heavens are mirrored.</p>
-<p>&quot;Wretched boy!&quot; suddenly cried the chemist.</p>
-<p>And he ran to his son, who had just precipitated himself into a
- heap of lime in order to whiten his boots. At the reproaches with
- which he was being overwhelmed Napoleon began to roar, while
- Justin dried his shoes with a wisp of straw. But a knife was
- wanted; Charles offered his.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah!&quot; she said to herself, &quot;he carried a knife in his pocket
- like
- a peasant.&quot;</p>
-<p>The hoar-frost was falling, and they turned back to Yonville.</p>
-<p>In the evening Madame Bovary did not go to her neighbour's, and
- when Charles had left and she felt herself alone, the comparison
- re-began with the clearness of a sensation almost actual, and
- with that lengthening of perspective which memory gives to
- things. Looking from her bed at the clean fire that was burning,
- she still saw, as she had down there, Leon standing up with one
- hand behind his cane, and with the other holding Athalie, who was
- quietly sucking a piece of ice. She thought him charming; she
- could not tear herself away from him; she recalled his other
- attitudes on other days, the words he had spoken, the sound of
- his voice, his whole person; and she repeated, pouting out her
- lips as if for a kiss--</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, charming! charming! Is he not in love?&quot; she asked herself;
- &quot;but with whom? With me?&quot;</p>
-<p>All the proofs arose before her at once; her heart leapt. The
- flame of the fire threw a joyous light upon the ceiling; she
- turned on her back, stretching out her arms.</p>
-<p>Then began the eternal lamentation: &quot;Oh, if Heaven had out willed
- it! And why not? What prevented it?&quot;</p>
-<p>When Charles came home at midnight, she seemed to have just
- awakened, and as he made a noise undressing, she complained of a
- headache, then asked carelessly what had happened that evening.</p>
-<p>&quot;Monsieur Leon,&quot; he said, &quot;went to his room early.&quot;</p>
-<p>She could not help smiling, and she fell asleep, her soul filled
- with a new delight.</p>
-<p>The next day, at dusk, she received a visit from Monsieur
- Lherueux, the draper. He was a man of ability, was this
- shopkeeper. Born a Gascon but bred a Norman, he grafted upon his
- southern volubility the cunning of the Cauchois. His fat, flabby,
- beardless face seemed dyed by a decoction of liquorice, and his
- white hair made even more vivid the keen brilliance of his small
- black eyes. No one knew what he had been formerly; a pedlar said
- some, a banker at Routot according to others. What was certain
- was that he made complex calculations in his head that would have
- frightened Binet himself. Polite to obsequiousness, he always
- held himself with his back bent in the position of one who bows
- or who invites.</p>
-<p>After leaving at the door his hat surrounded with crape, he put
- down a green bandbox on the table, and began by complaining to
- madame, with many civilities, that he should have remained till
- that day without gaining her confidence. A poor shop like his was
- not made to attract a &quot;fashionable lady&quot;; he emphasized the
- words; yet she had only to command, and he would undertake to
- provide her with anything she might wish, either in haberdashery
- or linen, millinery or fancy goods, for he went to town regularly
- four times a month. He was connected with the best houses. You
- could speak of him at the &quot;Trois Freres,&quot; at the &quot;Barbe d'Or,&quot;
- or
- at the &quot;Grand Sauvage&quot;; all these gentlemen knew him as well as
- the insides of their pockets. To-day, then he had come to show
- madame, in passing, various articles he happened to have, thanks
- to the most rare opportunity. And he pulled out half-a-dozen
- embroidered collars from the box.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary examined them. &quot;I do not require anything,&quot; she
- said.</p>
-<p>Then Monsieur Lheureux delicately exhibited three Algerian scarves, several
- packet of English needles, a pair of straw slippers, and finally, four eggcups
- in cocoanut wood, carved in open work by convicts. Then, with both hands on
- the table, his neck stretched out, his figure bent forward, open-mouthed, he
- watched Emma's look, who was walking up and down undecided amid these goods.
- From time to time, as if to remove some dust, he filliped with his nail the
- silk of the scarves spread out at full length, and they rustled with a little
- noise, making in the green twilight the gold spangles of their tissue scintillate
- like little stars. </p>
-<p>How much are they?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;A mere nothing,&quot; he replied, &quot;a mere nothing. But there's no
- hurry; whenever it's convenient. We are not Jews.&quot;</p>
-<p>She reflected for a few moments, and ended by again declining
- Monsieur Lheureux's offer. He replied quite unconcernedly--</p>
-<p>&quot;Very well. We shall understand one another by and by. I have
- always got on with ladies--if I didn't with my own!&quot;</p>
-<p>Emma smiled.</p>
-<p>&quot;I wanted to tell you,&quot; he went on good-naturedly, after his
- joke, &quot;that it isn't the money I should trouble about. Why, I
- could give you some, if need be.&quot;</p>
-<p>She made a gesture of surprise.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah!&quot; said he quickly and in a low voice, &quot;I shouldn't have
- to go
- far to find you some, rely on that.&quot;</p>
-<p>And he began asking after Pere Tellier, the proprietor of the
- &quot;Cafe Francais,&quot; whom Monsieur Bovary was then attending.</p>
-<p>&quot;What's the matter with Pere Tellier? He coughs so that he shakes
- his whole house, and I'm afraid he'll soon want a deal covering
- rather than a flannel vest. He was such a rake as a young man!
- Those sort of people, madame, have not the least regularity; he's
- burnt up with brandy. Still it's sad, all the same, to see an
- acquaintance go off.&quot;</p>
-<p>And while he fastened up his box he discoursed about the doctor's
- patients.</p>
-<p>&quot;It's the weather, no doubt,&quot; he said, looking frowningly at the
- floor, &quot;that causes these illnesses. I, too, don't feel the
- thing. One of these days I shall even have to consult the doctor
- for a pain I have in my back. Well, good-bye, Madame Bovary. At
- your service; your very humble servant.&quot; And he closed the door
- gently.</p>
-<p>Emma had her dinner served in her bedroom on a tray by the
- fireside; she was a long time over it; everything was well with
- her.</p>
-<p>&quot;How good I was!&quot; she said to herself, thinking of the scarves.</p>
-<p>She heard some steps on the stairs. It was Leon. She got up and
- took from the chest of drawers the first pile of dusters to be
- hemmed. When he came in she seemed very busy.</p>
-<p>The conversation languished; Madame Bovary gave it up every few
- minutes, whilst he himself seemed quite embarrassed. Seated on a
- low chair near the fire, he turned round in his fingers the ivory
- thimble-case. She stitched on, or from time to time turned down
- the hem of the cloth with her nail. She did not speak; he was
- silent, captivated by her silence, as he would have been by her
- speech.</p>
-<p>&quot;Poor fellow!&quot; she thought.</p>
-<p>&quot;How have I displeased her?&quot; he asked himself.</p>
-<p>At last, however, Leon said that he should have, one of these
- days, to go to Rouen on some office business.</p>
-<p>&quot;Your music subscription is out; am I to renew it?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No,&quot; she replied.</p>
-<p>&quot;Why?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Because--&quot;</p>
-<p>And pursing her lips she slowly drew a long stitch of grey
- thread.</p>
-<p>This work irritated Leon. It seemed to roughen the ends of her
- fingers. A gallant phrase came into his head, but he did not risk
- it.</p>
-<p>&quot;Then you are giving it up?&quot; he went on.</p>
-<p>&quot;What?&quot; she asked hurriedly. &quot;Music? Ah! yes! Have I not my
- house
- to look after, my husband to attend to, a thousand things, in
- fact, many duties that must be considered first?&quot;</p>
-<p>She looked at the clock. Charles was late. Then, she affected
- anxiety. Two or three times she even repeated, &quot;He is so good!&quot;</p>
-<p>The clerk was fond of Monsieur Bovary. But this tenderness on his
- behalf astonished him unpleasantly; nevertheless he took up on
- his praises, which he said everyone was singing, especially the
- chemist.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! he is a good fellow,&quot; continued Emma.</p>
-<p>&quot;Certainly,&quot; replied the clerk.</p>
-<p>And he began talking of Madame Homais, whose very untidy
- appearance generally made them laugh.</p>
-<p>&quot;What does it matter?&quot; interrupted Emma. &quot;A good housewife does
- not trouble about her appearance.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then she relapsed into silence.</p>
-<p>It was the same on the following days; her talks, her manners,
- everything changed. She took interest in the housework, went to
- church regularly, and looked after her servant with more
- severity.</p>
-<p>She took Berthe from nurse. When visitors called, Felicite
- brought her in, and Madame Bovary undressed her to show off her
- limbs. She declared she adored children; this was her
- consolation, her joy, her passion, and she accompanied her
- caresses with lyrical outburst which would have reminded anyone
- but the Yonville people of Sachette in &quot;Notre Dame de Paris.&quot;</p>
-<p>When Charles came home he found his slippers put to warm near the
- fire. His waistcoat now never wanted lining, nor his shirt
- buttons, and it was quite a pleasure to see in the cupboard the
- night-caps arranged in piles of the same height. She no longer
- grumbled as formerly at taking a turn in the garden; what he
- proposed was always done, although she did not understand the
- wishes to which she submitted without a murmur; and when Leon saw
- him by his fireside after dinner, his two hands on his stomach,
- his two feet on the fender, his two cheeks red with feeding, his
- eyes moist with happiness, the child crawling along the carpet,
- and this woman with the slender waist who came behind his
- arm-chair to kiss his forehead: &quot;What madness!&quot; he said to
- himself. &quot;And how to reach her!&quot;</p>
-<p>And thus she seemed so virtuous and inaccessible to him that he
- lost all hope, even the faintest. But by this renunciation he
- placed her on an extraordinary pinnacle. To him she stood outside
- those fleshly attributes from which he had nothing to obtain, and
- in his heart she rose ever, and became farther removed from him
- after the magnificent manner of an apotheosis that is taking
- wing. It was one of those pure feelings that do not interfere
- with life, that are cultivated because they are rare, and whose
- loss would afflict more than their passion rejoices.</p>
-<p>Emma grew thinner, her cheeks paler, her face longer. With her
- black hair, her large eyes, her aquiline nose, her birdlike walk,
- and always silent now, did she not seem to be passing through
- life scarcely touching it, and to bear on her brow the vague
- impress of some divine destiny? She was so sad and so calm, at
- once so gentle and so reserved, that near her one felt oneself
- seized by an icy charm, as we shudder in churches at the perfume
- of the flowers mingling with the cold of the marble. The others
- even did not escape from this seduction. The chemist said--</p>
-<p>&quot;She is a woman of great parts, who wouldn't be misplaced in a
- sub-prefecture.&quot;</p>
-<p>The housewives admired her economy, the patients her politeness,
- the poor her charity.</p>
-<p>But she was eaten up with desires, with rage, with hate. That
- dress with the narrow folds hid a distracted fear, of whose
- torment those chaste lips said nothing. She was in love with
- Leon, and sought solitude that she might with the more ease
- delight in his image. The sight of his form troubled the
- voluptuousness of this mediation. Emma thrilled at the sound of
- his step; then in his presence the emotion subsided, and
- afterwards there remained to her only an immense astonishment
- that ended in sorrow.</p>
-<p>Leon did not know that when he left her in despair she rose after
- he had gone to see him in the street. She concerned herself about
- his comings and goings; she watched his face; she invented quite
- a history to find an excuse for going to his room. The chemist's
- wife seemed happy to her to sleep under the same roof, and her
- thoughts constantly centered upon this house, like the &quot;Lion
- d'Or&quot; pigeons, who came there to dip their red feet and white
- wings in its gutters. But the more Emma recognised her love, the
- more she crushed it down, that it might not be evident, that she
- might make it less. She would have liked Leon to guess it, and
- she imagined chances, catastrophes that should facilitate this.</p>
-<p>What restrained her was, no doubt, idleness and fear, and a sense
- of shame also. She thought she had repulsed him too much, that
- the time was past, that all was lost. Then, pride, and joy of
- being able to say to herself, &quot;I am virtuous,&quot; and to look at
- herself in the glass taking resigned poses, consoled her a little
- for the sacrifice she believed she was making.</p>
-<p>Then the lusts of the flesh, the longing for money, and the
- melancholy of passion all blended themselves into one suffering,
- and instead of turning her thoughts from it, she clave to it the
- more, urging herself to pain, and seeking everywhere occasion for
- it. She was irritated by an ill-served dish or by a half-open
- door; bewailed the velvets she had not, the happiness she had
- missed, her too exalted dreams, her narrow home.</p>
-<p>What exasperated her was that Charles did not seem to notice her
- anguish. His conviction that he was making her happy seemed to
- her an imbecile insult, and his sureness on this point
- ingratitude. For whose sake, then was she virtuous? Was it not
- for him, the obstacle to all felicity, the cause of all misery,
- and, as it were, the sharp clasp of that complex strap that
- bucked her in on all sides.</p>
-<p>On him alone, then, she concentrated all the various hatreds that
- resulted from her boredom, and every effort to diminish only
- augmented it; for this useless trouble was added to the other
- reasons for despair, and contributed still more to the separation
- between them. Her own gentleness to herself made her rebel
- against him. Domestic mediocrity drove her to lewd fancies,
- marriage tenderness to adulterous desires. She would have like
- Charles to beat her, that she might have a better right to hate
- him, to revenge herself upon him. She was surprised sometimes at
- the atrocious conjectures that came into her thoughts, and she
- had to go on smiling, to hear repeated to her at all hours that
- she was happy, to pretend to be happy, to let it be believed.</p>
-<p>Yet she had loathing of this hypocrisy. She was seized with the
- temptation to flee somewhere with Leon to try a new life; but at
- once a vague chasm full of darkness opened within her soul.</p>
-<p>&quot;Besides, he no longer loves me,&quot; she thought. &quot;What is to become
- of me? What help is to be hoped for, what consolation, what
- solace?&quot;</p>
-<p>She was left broken, breathless, inert, sobbing in a low voice,
- with flowing tears.</p>
-<p>&quot;Why don't you tell master?&quot; the servant asked her when she came
- in during these crises.</p>
-<p>&quot;It is the nerves,&quot; said Emma. &quot;Do not speak to him of it; it
- would worry him.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! yes,&quot; Felicite went on, &quot;you are just like La Guerine,
- Pere
- Guerin's daughter, the fisherman at Pollet, that I used to know
- at Dieppe before I came to you. She was so sad, so sad, to see
- her standing upright on the threshold of her house, she seemed to
- you like a winding-sheet spread out before the door. Her illness,
- it appears, was a kind of fog that she had in her head, and the
- doctors could not do anything, nor the priest either. When she
- was taken too bad she went off quite alone to the sea-shore, so
- that the customs officer, going his rounds, often found her lying
- flat on her face, crying on the shingle. Then, after her
- marriage, it went off, they say.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But with me,&quot; replied Emma, &quot;it was after marriage that it
- began.&quot;</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Six</h3>
-<p>One evening when the window was open, and she, sitting by it, had
- been watching Lestiboudois, the beadle, trimming the box, she
- suddenly heard the Angelus ringing.</p>
-<p>It was the beginning of April, when the primroses are in bloom, and a warm
- wind blows over the flower-beds newly turned, and the gardens, like women, seem
- to be getting ready for the summer fetes. Through the bars of the arbour and
- away beyond, the river seen in the fields, meandering through the grass in wandering
- curves. The evening vapours rose between the leafless poplars, touching their
- outlines with a violet tint, paler and more transparent than a subtle gauze
- caught athwart their branches. In the distance cattle moved about; neither their
- steps nor their lowing could be heard; and the bell, still ringing through the
- air, kept up its peaceful lamentation. </p>
-<p>With this repeated tinkling the thoughts of the young woman lost
- themselves in old memories of her youth and school-days. She
- remembered the great candlesticks that rose above the vases full
- of flowers on the altar, and the tabernacle with its small
- columns. She would have liked to be once more lost in the long
- line of white veils, marked off here and there by the stuff black
- hoods of the good sisters bending over their prie-Dieu. At mass
- on Sundays, when she looked up, she saw the gentle face of the
- Virgin amid the blue smoke of the rising incense. Then she was
- moved; she felt herself weak and quite deserted, like the down of
- a bird whirled by the tempest, and it was unconsciously that she
- went towards the church, included to no matter what devotions, so
- that her soul was absorbed and all existence lost in it.</p>
-<p>On the Place she met Lestivoudois on his way back, for, in order
- not to shorten his day's labour, he preferred interrupting his
- work, then beginning it again, so that he rang the Angelus to
- suit his own convenience. Besides, the ringing over a little
- earlier warned the lads of catechism hour.</p>
-<p>Already a few who had arrived were playing marbles on the stones
- of the cemetery. Others, astride the wall, swung their legs,
- kicking with their clogs the large nettles growing between the
- little enclosure and the newest graves. This was the only green
- spot. All the rest was but stones, always covered with a fine
- powder, despite the vestry-broom.</p>
-<p>The children in list shoes ran about there as if it were an
- enclosure made for them. The shouts of their voices could be
- heard through the humming of the bell. This grew less and less
- with the swinging of the great rope that, hanging from the top of
- the belfry, dragged its end on the ground. Swallows flitted to
- and fro uttering little cries, cut the air with the edge of their
- wings, and swiftly returned to their yellow nests under the tiles
- of the coping. At the end of the church a lamp was burning, the
- wick of a night-light in a glass hung up. Its light from a
- distance looked like a white stain trembling in the oil. A long
- ray of the sun fell across the nave and seemed to darken the
- lower sides and the corners.</p>
-<p>&quot;Where is the cure?&quot; asked Madame Bovary of one of the lads, who
- was amusing himself by shaking a swivel in a hole too large for
- it.</p>
-<p>&quot;He is just coming,&quot; he answered.</p>
-<p>And in fact the door of the presbytery grated; Abbe Bournisien
- appeared; the children, pell-mell, fled into the church.</p>
-<p>&quot;These young scamps!&quot; murmured the priest, &quot;always the same!&quot;</p>
-<p>Then, picking up a catechism all in rags that he had struck with
- is foot, &quot;They respect nothing!&quot; But as soon as he caught sight
- of Madame Bovary, &quot;Excuse me,&quot; he said; &quot;I did not recognise
- you.&quot;</p>
-<p>He thrust the catechism into his pocket, and stopped short,
- balancing the heavy vestry key between his two fingers.</p>
-<p>The light of the setting sun that fell full upon his face paled
- the lasting of his cassock, shiny at the elbows, unravelled at
- the hem. Grease and tobacco stains followed along his broad chest
- the lines of the buttons, and grew more numerous the farther they
- were from his neckcloth, in which the massive folds of his red
- chin rested; this was dotted with yellow spots, that disappeared
- beneath the coarse hair of his greyish beard. He had just dined
- and was breathing noisily.</p>
-<p>&quot;How are you?&quot; he added.</p>
-<p>&quot;Not well,&quot; replied Emma; &quot;I am ill.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, and so am I,&quot; answered the priest. &quot;These first warm
- days
- weaken one most remarkably, don't they? But, after all, we are
- born to suffer, as St. Paul says. But what does Monsieur Bovary
- think of it?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;He!&quot; she said with a gesture of contempt.</p>
-<p>&quot;What!&quot; replied the good fellow, quite astonished, doesn't he
- prescribe something for you?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah!&quot; said Emma, &quot;it is no earthly remedy I need.&quot;</p>
-<p>But the cure from time to time looked into the church, where the
- kneeling boys were shouldering one another, and tumbling over
- like packs of cards.</p>
-<p>&quot;I should like to know--&quot; she went on.</p>
-<p>&quot;You look out, Riboudet,&quot; cried the priest in an angry voice;
- &quot;I'll warm your ears, you imp!&quot; Then turning to Emma, &quot;He's
- Boudet the carpenter's son; his parents are well off, and let him
- do just as he pleases. Yet he could learn quickly if he would,
- for he is very sharp. And so sometimes for a joke I call him
- Riboudet (like the road one takes to go to Maromme) and I even
- say 'Mon Riboudet.' Ha! Ha! 'Mont Riboudet.' The other day I
- repeated that just to Monsignor, and he laughed at it; he
- condescended to laugh at it. And how is Monsieur Bovary?&quot;</p>
-<p>She seemed not to hear him. And he went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;Always very busy, no doubt; for he and I are certainly the
- busiest people in the parish. But he is doctor of the body,&quot; he
- added with a thick laugh, &quot;and I of the soul.&quot;</p>
-<p>She fixed her pleading eyes upon the priest. &quot;Yes,&quot; she said,
- &quot;you solace all sorrows.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! don't talk to me of it, Madame Bovary. This morning I had to
- go to Bas-Diauville for a cow that was ill; they thought it was
- under a spell. All their cows, I don't know how it is--But pardon
- me! Longuemarre and Boudet! Bless me! Will you leave off?&quot;</p>
-<p>And with a bound he ran into the church.</p>
-<p>The boys were just then clustering round the large desk, climbing
- over the precentor's footstool, opening the missal; and others on
- tiptoe were just about to venture into the confessional. But the
- priest suddenly distributed a shower of cuffs among them. Seizing
- them by the collars of their coats, he lifted them from the
- ground, and deposited them on their knees on the stones of the
- choir, firmly, as if he meant planting them there.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said he, when he returned to Emma, unfolding his large
- cotton handkerchief, one corner of which he put between his
- teeth, &quot;farmers are much to be pitied.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Others, too,&quot; she replied.</p>
-<p>&quot;Assuredly. Town-labourers, for example.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;It is not they--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Pardon! I've there known poor mothers of families, virtuous
- women, I assure you, real saints, who wanted even bread.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But those,&quot; replied Emma, and the corners of her mouth twitched
- as she spoke, &quot;those, Monsieur le Cure, who have bread and have
- no--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Fire in the winter,&quot; said the priest.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, what does that matter?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What! What does it matter? It seems to me that when one has
- firing and food--for, after all--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;My God! my God!&quot; she sighed.</p>
-<p>&quot;It is indigestion, no doubt? You must get home, Madame Bovary;
- drink a little tea, that will strengthen you, or else a glass of
- fresh water with a little moist sugar.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why?&quot; And she looked like one awaking from a dream.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, you see, you were putting your hand to your forehead. I
- thought you felt faint.&quot; Then, bethinking himself, &quot;But you were
- asking me something? What was it? I really don't remember.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I? Nothing! nothing!&quot; repeated Emma.</p>
-<p>And the glance she cast round her slowly fell upon the old man in
- the cassock. They looked at one another face to face without
- speaking.</p>
-<p>&quot;Then, Madame Bovary,&quot; he said at last, &quot;excuse me, but duty
- first, you know; I must look after my good-for-nothings. The
- first communion will soon be upon us, and I fear we shall be
- behind after all. So after Ascension Day I keep them recta* an
- extra hour every Wednesday. Poor children! One cannot lead them
- too soon into the path of the Lord, as, moreover, he has himself
- recommended us to do by the mouth of his Divine Son. Good health
- to you, madame; my respects to your husband.&quot;</p>
-<p>*On the straight and narrow path.</p>
-<p>And he went into the church making a genuflexion as soon as he
- reached the door.</p>
-<p>Emma saw him disappear between the double row of forms, walking
- with a heavy tread, his head a little bent over his shoulder, and
- with his two hands half-open behind him.</p>
-<p>Then she turned on her heel all of one piece, like a statue on a
- pivot, and went homewards. But the loud voice of the priest, the
- clear voices of the boys still reached her ears, and went on
- behind her.</p>
-<p>&quot;Are you a Christian?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, I am a Christian.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What is a Christian?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;He who, being baptized-baptized-baptized--&quot;</p>
-<p>She went up the steps of the staircase holding on to the
- banisters, and when she was in her room threw herself into an
- arm-chair.</p>
-<p>The whitish light of the window-panes fell with soft undulations.</p>
-<p>The furniture in its place seemed to have become more immobile,
- and to lose itself in the shadow as in an ocean of darkness. The
- fire was out, the clock went on ticking, and Emma vaguely
- marvelled at this calm of all things while within herself was
- such tumult. But little Berthe was there, between the window and
- the work-table, tottering on her knitted shoes, and trying to
- come to her mother to catch hold of the ends of her
- apron-strings.</p>
-<p>&quot;Leave me alone,&quot; said the latter, putting her from her with her
- hand.</p>
-<p>The little girl soon came up closer against her knees, and
- leaning on them with her arms, she looked up with her large blue
- eyes, while a small thread of pure saliva dribbled from her lips
- on to the silk apron.</p>
-<p>&quot;Leave me alone,&quot; repeated the young woman quite irritably.</p>
-<p>Her face frightened the child, who began to scream.</p>
-<p>&quot;Will you leave me alone?&quot; she said, pushing her with her elbow.</p>
-<p>Berthe fell at the foot of the drawers against the brass handle,
- cutting her cheek, which began to bleed, against it. Madame
- Bovary sprang to lift her up, broke the bell-rope, called for the
- servant with all her might, and she was just going to curse
- herself when Charles appeared. It was the dinner-hour; he had
- come home.</p>
-<p>&quot;Look, dear!&quot; said Emma, in a calm voice, &quot;the little one fell
- down while she was playing, and has hurt herself.&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles reassured her; the case was not a serious one, and he
- went for some sticking plaster.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary did not go downstairs to the dining-room; she
- wished to remain alone to look after the child. Then watching her
- sleep, the little anxiety she felt gradually wore off, and she
- seemed very stupid to herself, and very good to have been so
- worried just now at so little. Berthe, in fact, no longer sobbed.</p>
-<p>Her breathing now imperceptibly raised the cotton covering. Big
- tears lay in the corner of the half-closed eyelids, through whose
- lashes one could see two pale sunken pupils; the plaster stuck on
- her cheek drew the skin obliquely.</p>
-<p>&quot;It is very strange,&quot; thought Emma, &quot;how ugly this child is!&quot;</p>
-<p>When at eleven o'clock Charles came back from the chemist's shop,
- whither he had gone after dinner to return the remainder of the
- sticking-plaster, he found his wife standing by the cradle.</p>
-<p>&quot;I assure you it's nothing.&quot; he said, kissing her on the
- forehead. &quot;Don't worry, my poor darling; you will make yourself
- ill.&quot;</p>
-<p>He had stayed a long time at the chemist's. Although he had not
- seemed much moved, Homais, nevertheless, had exerted himself to
- buoy him up, to &quot;keep up his spirits.&quot; Then they had talked of
- the various dangers that threaten childhood, of the carelessness
- of servants. Madame Homais knew something of it, having still
- upon her chest the marks left by a basin full of soup that a cook
- had formerly dropped on her pinafore, and her good parents took
- no end of trouble for her. The knives were not sharpened, nor the
- floors waxed; there were iron gratings to the windows and strong
- bars across the fireplace; the little Homais, in spite of their
- spirit, could not stir without someone watching them; at the
- slightest cold their father stuffed them with pectorals; and
- until they were turned four they all, without pity, had to wear
- wadded head-protectors. This, it is true, was a fancy of Madame
- Homais'; her husband was inwardly afflicted at it. Fearing the
- possible consequences of such compression to the intellectual
- organs. He even went so far as to say to her, &quot;Do you want to
- make Caribs or Botocudos of them?&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles, however, had several times tried to interrupt the
- conversation. &quot;I should like to speak to you,&quot; he had whispered
- in the clerk's ear, who went upstairs in front of him.</p>
-<p>&quot;Can he suspect anything?&quot; Leon asked himself. His heart beat,
- and he racked his brain with surmises.</p>
-<p>At last, Charles, having shut the door, asked him to see himself
- what would be the price at Rouen of a fine daguerreotypes. It was
- a sentimental surprise he intended for his wife, a delicate
- attention--his portrait in a frock-coat. But he wanted first to
- know &quot;how much it would be.&quot; The inquiries would not put Monsieur
- Leon out, since he went to town almost every week.</p>
-<p>Why? Monsieur Homais suspected some &quot;young man's affair&quot; at the
- bottom of it, an intrigue. But he was mistaken. Leon was after no
- love-making. He was sadder than ever, as Madame Lefrancois saw
- from the amount of food he left on his plate. To find out more
- about it she questioned the tax-collector. Binet answered roughly
- that he &quot;wasn't paid by the police.&quot;</p>
-<p>All the same, his companion seemed very strange to him, for Leon
- often threw himself back in his chair, and stretching out his
- arms. Complained vaguely of life.</p>
-<p>&quot;It's because you don't take enough recreation,&quot; said the
- collector.</p>
-<p>&quot;What recreation?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;If I were you I'd have a lathe.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But I don't know how to turn,&quot; answered the clerk.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! that's true,&quot; said the other, rubbing his chin with an air
- of mingled contempt and satisfaction.</p>
-<p>Leon was weary of loving without any result; moreover he was
- beginning to feel that depression caused by the repetition of the
- same kind of life, when no interest inspires and no hope sustains
- it. He was so bored with Yonville and its inhabitants, that the
- sight of certain persons, of certain houses, irritated him beyond
- endurance; and the chemist, good fellow though he was, was
- becoming absolutely unbearable to him. Yet the prospect of a new
- condition of life frightened as much as it seduced him.</p>
-<p>This apprehension soon changed into impatience, and then Paris
- from afar sounded its fanfare of masked balls with the laugh of
- grisettes. As he was to finish reading there, why not set out at
- once? What prevented him? And he began making home-preparations;
- he arranged his occupations beforehand. He furnished in his head
- an apartment. He would lead an artist's life there! He would take
- lessons on the guitar! He would have a dressing-gown, a Basque
- cap, blue velvet slippers! He even already was admiring two
- crossed foils over his chimney-piece, with a death's head on the
- guitar above them.</p>
-<p>The difficulty was the consent of his mother; nothing, however,
- seemed more reasonable. Even his employer advised him to go to
- some other chambers where he could advance more rapidly. Taking a
- middle course, then, Leon looked for some place as second clerk
- at Rouen; found none, and at last wrote his mother a long letter
- full of details, in which he set forth the reasons for going to
- live at Paris immediately. She consented.</p>
-<p>He did not hurry. Every day for a month Hivert carried boxes,
- valises, parcels for him from Yonville to Rouen and from Rouen to
- Yonville; and when Leon had packed up his wardrobe, had his three
- arm-chairs restuffed, bought a stock of neckties, in a word, had
- made more preparations than for a voyage around the world, he put
- it off from week to week, until he received a second letter from
- his mother urging him to leave, since he wanted to pass his
- examination before the vacation.</p>
-<p>When the moment for the farewells had come, Madame Homais wept,
- Justin sobbed; Homais, as a man of nerve, concealed his emotion;
- he wished to carry his friend's overcoat himself as far as the
- gate of the notary, who was taking Leon to Rouen in his carriage.</p>
-<p>The latter had just time to bid farewell to Monsieur Bovary.</p>
-<p>When he reached the head of the stairs, he stopped, he was so out
- of breath. As he came in, Madame Bovary arose hurriedly.</p>
-<p>&quot;It is I again!&quot; said Leon.</p>
-<p>&quot;I was sure of it!&quot;</p>
-<p>She bit her lips, and a rush of blood flowing under her skin made
- her red from the roots of her hair to the top of her collar. She
- remained standing, leaning with her shoulder against the
- wainscot.</p>
-<p>&quot;The doctor is not here?&quot; he went on.</p>
-<p>&quot;He is out.&quot; She repeated, &quot;He is out.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then there was silence. They looked at one another and their
- thoughts, confounded in the same agony, clung close together like
- two throbbing breasts.</p>
-<p>&quot;I should like to kiss Berthe,&quot; said Leon.</p>
-<p>Emma went down a few steps and called Felicite.</p>
-<p>He threw one long look around him that took in the walls, the
- decorations, the fireplace, as if to penetrate everything, carry
- away everything. But she returned, and the servant brought
- Berthe, who was swinging a windmill roof downwards at the end of
- a string. Leon kissed her several times on the neck.</p>
-<p>&quot;Good-bye, poor child! good-bye, dear little one! good-bye!&quot; And
- he gave her back to her mother.</p>
-<p>&quot;Take her away,&quot; she said.</p>
-<p>They remained alone--Madame Bovary, her back turned, her face
- pressed against a window-pane; Leon held his cap in his hand,
- knocking it softly against his thigh.</p>
-<p>&quot;It is going to rain,&quot; said Emma.</p>
-<p>&quot;I have a cloak,&quot; he answered.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah!&quot;</p>
-<p>She turned around, her chin lowered, her forehead bent forward.</p>
-<p>The light fell on it as on a piece of marble, to the curve of the
- eyebrows, without one's being able to guess what Emma was seeing
- on the horizon or what she was thinking within herself.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, good-bye,&quot; he sighed.</p>
-<p>She raised her head with a quick movement.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, good-bye--go!&quot;</p>
-<p>They advanced towards each other; he held out his hand; she
- hesitated.</p>
-<p>&quot;In the English fashion, then,&quot; she said, giving her own hand
- wholly to him, and forcing a laugh.</p>
-<p>Leon felt it between his fingers, and the very essence of all his
- being seemed to pass down into that moist palm. Then he opened
- his hand; their eyes met again, and he disappeared.</p>
-<p>When he reached the market-place, he stopped and hid behind a
- pillar to look for the last time at this white house with the
- four green blinds. He thought he saw a shadow behind the window
- in the room; but the curtain, sliding along the pole as though no
- one were touching it, slowly opened its long oblique folds that
- spread out with a single movement, and thus hung straight and
- motionless as a plaster wall. Leon set off running.</p>
-<p>From afar he saw his employer's gig in the road, and by it a man
- in a coarse apron holding the horse. Homais and Monsieur
- Guillaumin were talking. They were waiting for him.</p>
-<p>&quot;Embrace me,&quot; said the druggist with tears in his eyes. &quot;Here
- is
- your coat, my good friend. Mind the cold; take care of yourself;
- look after yourself.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Come, Leon, jump in,&quot; said the notary.</p>
-<p>Homais bend over the splash-board, and in a voice broken by sobs
- uttered these three sad words--</p>
-<p>&quot;A pleasant journey!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Good-night,&quot; said Monsieur Guillaumin. &quot;Give him his head.&quot;
- They
- set out, and Homais went back.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary had opened her window overlooking the garden and
- watched the clouds. They gathered around the sunset on the side
- of Rouen and then swiftly rolled back their black columns, behind
- which the great rays of the sun looked out like the golden arrows
- of a suspended trophy, while the rest of the empty heavens was
- white as porcelain. But a gust of wind bowed the poplars, and
- suddenly the rain fell; it pattered against the green leaves.</p>
-<p>Then the sun reappeared, the hens clucked, sparrows shook their
- wings in the damp thickets, and the pools of water on the gravel
- as they flowed away carried off the pink flowers of an acacia.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! how far off he must be already!&quot; she thought.</p>
-<p>Monsieur Homais, as usual, came at half-past six during dinner.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said he, &quot;so we've sent off our young friend!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;So it seems,&quot; replied the doctor. Then turning on his chair;
- &quot;Any news at home?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Nothing much. Only my wife was a little moved this afternoon.
- You know women--a nothing upsets them, especially my wife. And we
- should be wrong to object to that, since their nervous
- organization is much more malleable than ours.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Poor Leon!&quot; said Charles. &quot;How will he live at Paris? Will
- he
- get used to it?&quot;</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary sighed.</p>
-<p>&quot;Get along!&quot; said the chemist, smacking his lips. &quot;The outings
- at
- restaurants, the masked balls, the champagne--all that'll be
- jolly enough, I assure you.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I don't think he'll go wrong,&quot; objected Bovary.</p>
-<p>&quot;Nor do I,&quot; said Monsieur Homais quickly; &quot;although he'll have
- to
- do like the rest for fear of passing for a Jesuit. And you don't
- know what a life those dogs lead in the Latin quarter with
- actresses. Besides, students are thought a great deal of in
- Paris. Provided they have a few accomplishments, they are
- received in the best society; there are even ladies of the
- Faubourg Saint-Germain who fall in love with them, which
- subsequently furnishes them opportunities for making very good
- matches.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But,&quot; said the doctor, &quot;I fear for him that down there--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;You are right,&quot; interrupted the chemist; &quot;that is the reverse
- of
- the medal. And one is constantly obliged to keep one's hand in
- one's pocket there. Thus, we will suppose you are in a public
- garden. An individual presents himself, well dressed, even
- wearing an order, and whom one would take for a diplomatist. He
- approaches you, he insinuates himself; offers you a pinch of
- snuff, or picks up your hat. Then you become more intimate; he
- takes you to a cafe, invites you to his country-house, introduces
- you, between two drinks, to all sorts of people; and
- three-fourths of the time it's only to plunder your watch or lead
- you into some pernicious step.</p>
-<p>&quot;That is true,&quot; said Charles; &quot;but I was thinking especially
- of
- illnesses--of typhoid fever, for example, that attacks students
- from the provinces.&quot;</p>
-<p>Emma shuddered.</p>
-<p>&quot;Because of the change of regimen,&quot; continued the chemist, &quot;and
- of the perturbation that results therefrom in the whole system.
- And then the water at Paris, don't you know! The dishes at
- restaurants, all the spiced food, end by heating the blood, and
- are not worth, whatever people may say of them, a good soup. For
- my own part, I have always preferred plain living; it is more
- healthy. So when I was studying pharmacy at Rouen, I boarded in a
- boarding house; I dined with the professors.&quot;</p>
-<p>And thus he went on, expounding his opinions generally and his
- personal likings, until Justin came to fetch him for a mulled egg
- that was wanted.</p>
-<p>&quot;Not a moment's peace!&quot; he cried; &quot;always at it! I can't go
- out
- for a minute! Like a plough-horse, I have always to be moiling
- and toiling. What drudgery!&quot; Then, when he was at the door, &quot;By
- the way, do you know the news?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What news?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;That it is very likely,&quot; Homais went on, raising his eyebrows and
- assuming one of his most serious expression, &quot;that the agricultural meeting
- of the Seine-Inferieure will be held this year at Yonville-l'Abbaye. The rumour,
- at all events, is going the round. This morning the paper alluded to it. It
- would be of the utmost importance for our district. But we'll talk it over later
- on. I can see, thank you; Justin has the lantern.&quot;</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Seven</h3>
-<p>The next day was a dreary one for Emma. Everything seemed to her
- enveloped in a black atmosphere floating confusedly over the
- exterior of things, and sorrow was engulfed within her soul with
- soft shrieks such as the winter wind makes in ruined castles. It
- was that reverie which we give to things that will not return,
- the lassitude that seizes you after everything was done; that
- pain, in fine, that the interruption of every wonted movement,
- the sudden cessation of any prolonged vibration, brings on.</p>
-<p>As on the return from Vaubyessard, when the quadrilles were
- running in her head, she was full of a gloomy melancholy, of a
- numb despair. Leon reappeared, taller, handsomer, more charming,
- more vague. Though separated from her, he had not left her; he
- was there, and the walls of the house seemed to hold his shadow.</p>
-<p>She could not detach her eyes from the carpet where he had walked, from those
- empty chairs where he had sat. The river still flowed on, and slowly drove its
- ripples along the slippery banks.</p>
-<p>They had often walked there to the murmur of the waves over the
- moss-covered pebbles. How bright the sun had been! What happy
- afternoons they had seen along in the shade at the end of the
- garden! He read aloud, bareheaded, sitting on a footstool of dry
- sticks; the fresh wind of the meadow set trembling the leaves of
- the book and the nasturtiums of the arbour. Ah! he was gone, the
- only charm of her life, the only possible hope of joy. Why had
- she not seized this happiness when it came to her? Why not have
- kept hold of it with both hands, with both knees, when it was
- about to flee from her? And she cursed herself for not having
- loved Leon. She thirsted for his lips. The wish took possession
- of her to run after and rejoin him, throw herself into his arms
- and say to him, &quot;It is I; I am yours.&quot; But Emma recoiled
- beforehand at the difficulties of the enterprise, and her
- desires, increased by regret, became only the more acute.</p>
-<p>Henceforth the memory of Leon was the centre of her boredom; it
- burnt there more brightly than the fire travellers have left on
- the snow of a Russian steppe. She sprang towards him, she pressed
- against him, she stirred carefully the dying embers, sought all
- around her anything that could revive it; and the most distant
- reminiscences, like the most immediate occasions, what she
- experienced as well as what she imagined, her voluptuous desires
- that were unsatisfied, her projects of happiness that crackled in
- the wind like dead boughs, her sterile virtue, her lost hopes,
- the domestic tete-a-tete--she gathered it all up, took
- everything, and made it all serve as fuel for her melancholy.</p>
-<p>The flames, however, subsided, either because the supply had
- exhausted itself, or because it had been piled up too much. Love,
- little by little, was quelled by absence; regret stifled beneath
- habit; and this incendiary light that had empurpled her pale sky
- was overspread and faded by degrees. In the supineness of her
- conscience she even took her repugnance towards her husband for
- aspirations towards her lover, the burning of hate for the warmth
- of tenderness; but as the tempest still raged, and as passion
- burnt itself down to the very cinders, and no help came, no sun
- rose, there was night on all sides, and she was lost in the
- terrible cold that pierced her.</p>
-<p>Then the evil days of Tostes began again. She thought herself now
- far more unhappy; for she had the experience of grief, with the
- certainty that it would not end.</p>
-<p>A woman who had laid on herself such sacrifices could well allow
- herself certain whims. She bought a Gothic prie-dieu, and in a
- month spent fourteen francs on lemons for polishing her nails;
- she wrote to Rouen for a blue cashmere gown; she chose one of
- Lheureux's finest scarves, and wore it knotted around her waist
- over her dressing-gown; and, with closed blinds and a book in her
- hand, she lay stretched out on a couch in this garb.</p>
-<p>She often changed her coiffure; she did her hair a la Chinoise,
- in flowing curls, in plaited coils; she parted in on one side and
- rolled it under like a man's.</p>
-<p>She wanted to learn Italian; she bought dictionaries, a grammar,
- and a supply of white paper. She tried serious reading, history,
- and philosophy. Sometimes in the night Charles woke up with a
- start, thinking he was being called to a patient. &quot;I'm coming,&quot;
- he stammered; and it was the noise of a match Emma had struck to
- relight the lamp. But her reading fared like her piece of
- embroidery, all of which, only just begun, filled her cupboard;
- she took it up, left it, passed on to other books.</p>
-<p>She had attacks in which she could easily have been driven to
- commit any folly. She maintained one day, in opposition to her
- husband, that she could drink off a large glass of brandy, and,
- as Charles was stupid enough to dare her to, she swallowed the
- brandy to the last drop.</p>
-<p>In spite of her vapourish airs (as the housewives of Yonville
- called them), Emma, all the same, never seemed gay, and usually
- she had at the corners of her mouth that immobile contraction
- that puckers the faces of old maids, and those of men whose
- ambition has failed. She was pale all over, white as a sheet; the
- skin of her nose was drawn at the nostrils, her eyes looked at
- you vaguely. After discovering three grey hairs on her temples,
- she talked much of her old age.</p>
-<p>She often fainted. One day she even spat blood, and, as Charles
- fussed around her showing his anxiety--</p>
-<p>&quot;Bah!&quot; she answered, &quot;what does it matter?&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles fled to his study and wept there, both his elbows on the
- table, sitting in an arm-chair at his bureau under the
- phrenological head.</p>
-<p>Then he wrote to his mother begging her to come, and they had
- many long consultations together on the subject of Emma.</p>
-<p>What should they decide? What was to be done since she rejected
- all medical treatment? &quot;Do you know what your wife wants?&quot;
- replied Madame Bovary senior.</p>
-<p>&quot;She wants to be forced to occupy herself with some manual work.
- If she were obliged, like so many others, to earn her living, she
- wouldn't have these vapours, that come to her from a lot of ideas
- she stuffs into her head, and from the idleness in which she
- lives.</p>
-<p>Yet she is always busy,&quot; said Charles.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! always busy at what? Reading novels, bad books, works
- against religion, and in which they mock at priests in speeches
- taken from Voltaire. But all that leads you far astray, my poor
- child. Anyone who has no religion always ends by turning out
- badly.&quot;</p>
-<p>So it was decided to stop Emma reading novels. The enterprise did
- not seem easy. The good lady undertook it. She was, when she
- passed through Rouen, to go herself to the lending-library and
- represent that Emma had discontinued her subscription. Would they
- not have a right to apply to the police if the librarian
- persisted all the same in his poisonous trade? The farewells of
- mother and daughter-in-law were cold. During the three weeks that
- they had been together they had not exchanged half-a-dozen words
- apart from the inquiries and phrases when they met at table and
- in the evening before going to bed.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary left on a Wednesday, the market-day at Yonville.</p>
-<p>The Place since morning had been blocked by a row of carts,
- which, on end and their shafts in the air, spread all along the
- line of houses from the church to the inn. On the other side
- there were canvas booths, where cotton checks, blankets, and
- woollen stockings were sold, together with harness for horses,
- and packets of blue ribbon, whose ends fluttered in the wind. The
- coarse hardware was spread out on the ground between pyramids of
- eggs and hampers of cheeses, from which sticky straw stuck out.</p>
-<p>Near the corn-machines clucking hens passed their necks through
- the bars of flat cages. The people, crowding in the same place
- and unwilling to move thence, sometimes threatened to smash the
- shop front of the chemist. On Wednesdays his shop was never
- empty, and the people pushed in less to buy drugs than for
- consultations. So great was Homais' reputation in the
- neighbouring villages. His robust aplomb had fascinated the
- rustics. They considered him a greater doctor than all the
- doctors.</p>
-<p>Emma was leaning out at the window; she was often there. The
- window in the provinces replaces the theatre and the promenade,
- she was amusing herself with watching the crowd of boors when she
- saw a gentleman in a green velvet coat. He had on yellow gloves,
- although he wore heavy gaiters; he was coming towards the
- doctor's house, followed by a peasant walking with a bent head
- and quite a thoughtful air.</p>
-<p>&quot;Can I see the doctor?&quot; he asked Justin, who was talking on the
- doorsteps with Felicite, and, taking him for a servant of the
- house--&quot;Tell him that Monsieur Rodolphe Boulanger of La Huchette
- is here.&quot;</p>
-<p>It was not from territorial vanity that the new arrival added &quot;of
- La Huchette&quot; to his name, but to make himself the better known.</p>
-<p>La Huchette, in fact, was an estate near Yonville, where he had
- just bought the chateau and two farms that he cultivated himself,
- without, however, troubling very much about them. He lived as a
- bachelor, and was supposed to have &quot;at least fifteen thousand
- francs a year.&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles came into the room. Monsieur Boulanger introduced his
- man, who wanted to be bled because he felt &quot;a tingling all over.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;That'll purge me,&quot; he urged as an objection to all reasoning.</p>
-<p>So Bovary ordered a bandage and a basin, and asked Justin to hold
- it. Then addressing the peasant, who was already pale--</p>
-<p>&quot;Don't be afraid, my lad.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No, no, sir,&quot; said the other; &quot;get on.&quot;</p>
-<p>And with an air of bravado he held out his great arm. At the
- prick of the lancet the blood spurted out, splashing against the
- looking-glass.</p>
-<p>&quot;Hold the basin nearer,&quot; exclaimed Charles.</p>
-<p>&quot;Lor!&quot; said the peasant, &quot;one would swear it was a little
- fountain flowing. How red my blood is! That's a good sign, isn't
- it?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Sometimes,&quot; answered the doctor, &quot;one feels nothing at first,
- and then syncope sets in, and more especially with people of
- strong constitution like this man.&quot;</p>
-<p>At these words the rustic let go the lancet-case he was twisting
- between his fingers. A shudder of his shoulders made the
- chair-back creak. His hat fell off.</p>
-<p>&quot;I thought as much,&quot; said Bovary, pressing his finger on the
- vein.</p>
-<p>The basin was beginning to tremble in Justin's hands; his knees
- shook, he turned pale.</p>
-<p>&quot;Emma! Emma!&quot; called Charles.</p>
-<p>With one bound she came down the staircase.</p>
-<p>&quot;Some vinegar,&quot; he cried. &quot;O dear! two at once!&quot;</p>
-<p>And in his emotion he could hardly put on the compress.</p>
-<p>&quot;It is nothing,&quot; said Monsieur Boulanger quietly, taking Justin
- in his arms. He seated him on the table with his back resting
- against the wall.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary began taking off his cravat. The strings of his
- shirt had got into a knot, and she was for some minutes moving
- her light fingers about the young fellow's neck. Then she poured
- some vinegar on her cambric handkerchief; she moistened his
- temples with little dabs, and then blew upon them softly. The
- ploughman revived, but Justin's syncope still lasted, and his
- eyeballs disappeared in the pale sclerotics like blue flowers in
- milk.</p>
-<p>&quot;We must hide this from him,&quot; said Charles.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary took the basin to put it under the table. With the
- movement she made in bending down, her dress (it was a summer
- dress with four flounces, yellow, long in the waist and wide in
- the skirt) spread out around her on the flags of the room; and as
- Emma stooping, staggered a little as she stretched out her arms.</p>
-<p>The stuff here and there gave with the inflections of her bust.</p>
-<p>Then she went to fetch a bottle of water, and she was melting
- some pieces of sugar when the chemist arrived. The servant had
- been to fetch him in the tumult. Seeing his pupil's eyes staring
- he drew a long breath; then going around him he looked at him
- from head to foot.</p>
-<p>&quot;Fool!&quot; he said, &quot;really a little fool! A fool in four letters!
- A
- phlebotomy's a big affair, isn't it! And a fellow who isn't
- afraid of anything; a kind of squirrel, just as he is who climbs
- to vertiginous heights to shake down nuts. Oh, yes! you just talk
- to me, boast about yourself! Here's a fine fitness for practising
- pharmacy later on; for under serious circumstances you may be
- called before the tribunals in order to enlighten the minds of
- the magistrates, and you would have to keep your head then, to
- reason, show yourself a man, or else pass for an imbecile.&quot;</p>
-<p>Justin did not answer. The chemist went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;Who asked you to come? You are always pestering the doctor and
- madame. On Wednesday, moreover, your presence is indispensable to
- me. There are now twenty people in the shop. I left everything
- because of the interest I take in you. Come, get along! Sharp!
- Wait for me, and keep an eye on the jars.&quot;</p>
-<p>When Justin, who was rearranging his dress, had gone, they talked
- for a little while about fainting-fits. Madame Bovary had never
- fainted.</p>
-<p>&quot;That is extraordinary for a lady,&quot; said Monsieur Boulanger; &quot;but
- some people are very susceptible. Thus in a duel, I have seen a
- second lose consciousness at the mere sound of the loading of
- pistols.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;For my part,&quot; said the chemist, &quot;the sight of other people's
- blood doesn't affect me at all, but the mere thought of my own
- flowing would make me faint if I reflected upon it too much.&quot;</p>
-<p>Monsieur Boulanger, however, dismissed his servant, advising him
- to calm himself, since his fancy was over.</p>
-<p>&quot;It procured me the advantage of making your acquaintance,&quot; he
- added, and he looked at Emma as he said this. Then he put three
- francs on the corner of the table, bowed negligently, and went
- out.</p>
-<p>He was soon on the other side of the river (this was his way back
- to La Huchette), and Emma saw him in the meadow, walking under
- the poplars, slackening his pace now and then as one who
- reflects.</p>
-<p>&quot;She is very pretty,&quot; he said to himself; &quot;she is very pretty,
- this doctor's wife. Fine teeth, black eyes, a dainty foot, a
- figure like a Parisienne's. Where the devil does she come from?
- Wherever did that fat fellow pick her up?&quot;</p>
-<p>Monsieur Rodolphe Boulanger was thirty-four; he was of brutal
- temperament and intelligent perspicacity, having, moreover, had
- much to do with women, and knowing them well. This one had seemed
- pretty to him; so he was thinking about her and her husband.</p>
-<p>&quot;I think he is very stupid. She is tired of him, no doubt. He has
- dirty nails, and hasn't shaved for three days. While he is
- trotting after his patients, she sits there botching socks. And
- she gets bored! She would like to live in town and dance polkas
- every evening. Poor little woman! She is gaping after love like a
- carp after water on a kitchen-table. With three words of
- gallantry she'd adore one, I'm sure of it. She'd be tender,
- charming. Yes; but how to get rid of her afterwards?&quot;</p>
-<p>Then the difficulties of love-making seen in the distance made
- him by contrast think of his mistress. She was an actress at
- Rouen, whom he kept; and when he had pondered over this image,
- with which, even in remembrance, he was satiated--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! Madame Bovary,&quot; he thought, &quot;is much prettier, especially
- fresher. Virginie is decidedly beginning to grow fat. She is so
- finikin about her pleasures; and, besides, she has a mania for
- prawns.&quot;</p>
-<p>The fields were empty, and around him Rodolphe only heard the
- regular beating of the grass striking against his boots, with a
- cry of the grasshopper hidden at a distance among the oats. He
- again saw Emma in her room, dressed as he had seen her, and he
- undressed her.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, I will have her,&quot; he cried, striking a blow with his stick
- at a clod in front of him. And he at once began to consider the
- political part of the enterprise. He asked himself--</p>
-<p>&quot;Where shall we meet? By what means? We shall always be having
- the brat on our hands, and the servant, the neighbours, and
- husband, all sorts of worries. Pshaw! one would lose too much
- time over it.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then he resumed, &quot;She really has eyes that pierce one's heart
- like a gimlet. And that pale complexion! I adore pale women!&quot;</p>
-<p>When he reached the top of the Arguiel hills he had made up his mind. &quot;It's
- only finding the opportunities. Well, I will call in now and then. I'll send
- them venison, poultry; I'll have myself bled, if need be. We shall become friends;
- I'll invite them to my place. By Jove!&quot; added he, &quot;there's the agricultural
- show coming on. She'll be there. I shall see her. We'll begin boldly, for that's
- the surest way.&quot;</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Eight</h3>
-<p>At last it came, the famous agricultural show. On the morning of the solemnity
- all the inhabitants at their doors were chatting over the preparations. The
- pediment of the town hall had been hung with garlands of ivy; a tent had been
- erected in a meadow for the banquet; and in the middle of the Place, in front
- of the church, a kind of bombarde was to announce the arrival of the prefect
- and the names of the successful farmers who had obtained prizes. The National
- Guard of Buchy (there was none at Yonville) had come to join the corps of firemen,
- of whom Binet was captain. On that day he wore a collar even higher than usual;
- and, tightly buttoned in his tunic, his figure was so stiff and motionless that
- the whole vital portion of his person seemed to have descended into his legs,
- which rose in a cadence of set steps with a single movement. As there was some
- rivalry between the tax-collector and the colonel, both, to show off their talents,
- drilled their men separately. One saw the red epaulettes and the black breastplates
- pass and re-pass alternately; there was no end to it, and it constantly began
- again. There had never been such a display of pomp. Several citizens had scoured
- their houses the evening before; tri-coloured flags hung from half-open windows;
- all the public-houses were full; and in the lovely weather the starched caps,
- the golden crosses, and the coloured neckerchiefs seemed whiter than snow, shone
- in the sun, and relieved with the motley colours the sombre monotony of the
- frock-coats and blue smocks. The neighbouring farmers' wives, when they got
- off their horses, pulled out the long pins that fastened around them their dresses,
- turned up for fear of mud; and the husbands, for their part, in order to save
- their hats, kept their handkerchiefs around them, holding one corner between
- their teeth.</p>
-<p>The crowd came into the main street from both ends of the
- village. People poured in from the lanes, the alleys, the houses;
- and from time to time one heard knockers banging against doors
- closing behind women with their gloves, who were going out to see
- the fete. What was most admired were two long lamp-stands covered
- with lanterns, that flanked a platform on which the authorities
- were to sit. Besides this there were against the four columns of
- the town hall four kinds of poles, each bearing a small standard
- of greenish cloth, embellished with inscriptions in gold letters.</p>
-<p>On one was written, &quot;To Commerce&quot;; on the other, &quot;To
- Agriculture&quot;; on the third, &quot;To Industry&quot;; and on the fourth,
- &quot;To
- the Fine Arts.&quot;</p>
-<p>But the jubilation that brightened all faces seemed to darken
- that of Madame Lefrancois, the innkeeper. Standing on her
- kitchen-steps she muttered to herself, &quot;What rubbish! what
- rubbish! With their canvas booth! Do they think the prefect will
- be glad to dine down there under a tent like a gipsy? They call
- all this fussing doing good to the place! Then it wasn't worth
- while sending to Neufchatel for the keeper of a cookshop! And for
- whom? For cowherds! tatterdemalions!&quot;</p>
-<p>The druggist was passing. He had on a frock-coat, nankeen
- trousers, beaver shoes, and, for a wonder, a hat with a low
- crown.</p>
-<p>&quot;Your servant! Excuse me, I am in a hurry.&quot; And as the fat widow
- asked where he was going--</p>
-<p>&quot;It seems odd to you, doesn't it, I who am always more cooped up
- in my laboratory than the man's rat in his cheese.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What cheese?&quot; asked the landlady.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, nothing! nothing!&quot; Homais continued. &quot;I merely wished to
- convey to you, Madame Lefrancois, that I usually live at home
- like a recluse. To-day, however, considering the circumstances,
- it is necessary--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, you're going down there!&quot; she said contemptuously.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, I am going,&quot; replied the druggist, astonished. &quot;Am I not
- a
- member of the consulting commission?&quot;</p>
-<p>Mere Lefrancois looked at him for a few moments, and ended by
- saying with a smile--</p>
-<p>&quot;That's another pair of shoes! But what does agriculture matter
- to you? Do you understand anything about it?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Certainly I understand it, since I am a druggist--that is to
- say, a chemist. And the object of chemistry, Madame Lefrancois,
- being the knowledge of the reciprocal and molecular action of all
- natural bodies, it follows that agriculture is comprised within
- its domain. And, in fact, the composition of the manure, the
- fermentation of liquids, the analyses of gases, and the influence
- of miasmata, what, I ask you, is all this, if it isn't chemistry,
- pure and simple?&quot;</p>
-<p>The landlady did not answer. Homais went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;Do you think that to be an agriculturist it is necessary to have
- tilled the earth or fattened fowls oneself? It is necessary
- rather to know the composition of the substances in question--the
- geological strata, the atmospheric actions, the quality of the
- soil, the minerals, the waters, the density of the different
- bodies, their capillarity, and what not. And one must be master
- of all the principles of hygiene in order to direct, criticize
- the construction of buildings, the feeding of animals, the diet
- of domestics. And, moreover, Madame Lefrancois, one must know
- botany, be able to distinguish between plants, you understand,
- which are the wholesome and those that are deleterious, which are
- unproductive and which nutritive, if it is well to pull them up
- here and re-sow them there, to propagate some, destroy others; in
- brief, one must keep pace with science by means of pamphlets and
- public papers, be always on the alert to find out improvements.&quot;</p>
-<p>The landlady never took her eyes off the &quot;Cafe Francois&quot; and the
- chemist went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;Would to God our agriculturists were chemists, or that at least
- they would pay more attention to the counsels of science. Thus
- lately I myself wrote a considerable tract, a memoir of over
- seventy-two pages, entitled, 'Cider, its Manufacture and its
- Effects, together with some New Reflections on the Subject,' that
- I sent to the Agricultural Society of Rouen, and which even
- procured me the honour of being received among its
- members--Section, Agriculture; Class, Pomological.
- Well, if my work had been given to the public--&quot; But the druggist
- stopped, Madame Lefrancois seemed so preoccupied.</p>
-<p>&quot;Just look at them!&quot; she said. &quot;It's past comprehension! Such
- a
- cookshop as that!&quot; And with a shrug of the shoulders that
- stretched out over her breast the stitches of her knitted bodice,
- she pointed with both hands at her rival's inn, whence songs were
- heard issuing. &quot;Well, it won't last long,&quot; she added. &quot;It'll
- be
- over before a week.&quot;</p>
-<p>Homais drew back with stupefaction. She came down three steps and
- whispered in his ear--</p>
-<p>&quot;What! you didn't know it? There is to be an execution in next
- week. It's Lheureux who is selling him out; he has killed him
- with bills.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What a terrible catastrophe!&quot; cried the druggist, who always
- found expressions in harmony with all imaginable circumstances.</p>
-<p>Then the landlady began telling him the story that she had heard
- from Theodore, Monsieur Guillaumin's servant, and although she
- detested Tellier, she blamed Lheureux. He was &quot;a wheedler, a
- sneak.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;There!&quot; she said. &quot;Look at him! he is in the market; he is
- bowing to Madame Bovary, who's got on a green bonnet. Why, she's
- taking Monsieur Boulanger's arm.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Madame Bovary!&quot; exclaimed Homais. &quot;I must go at once and pay
- her
- my respects. Perhaps she'll be very glad to have a seat in the
- enclosure under the peristyle.&quot; And, without heeding Madame
- Lefrancois, who was calling him back to tell him more about it,
- the druggist walked off rapidly with a smile on his lips, with
- straight knees, bowing copiously to right and left, and taking up
- much room with the large tails of his frock-coat that fluttered
- behind him in the wind.</p>
-<p>Rodolphe, having caught sight of him from afar, hurried on, but
- Madame Bovary lost her breath; so he walked more slowly, and,
- smiling at her, said in a rough tone--</p>
-<p>&quot;It's only to get away from that fat fellow, you know, the
- druggist.&quot; She pressed his elbow.</p>
-<p>&quot;What's the meaning of that?&quot; he asked himself. And he looked at
- her out of the corner of his eyes.</p>
-<p>Her profile was so calm that one could guess nothing from it. It
- stood out in the light from the oval of her bonnet, with pale
- ribbons on it like the leaves of weeds. Her eyes with their long
- curved lashes looked straight before her, and though wide open,
- they seemed slightly puckered by the cheek-bones, because of the
- blood pulsing gently under the delicate skin. A pink line ran
- along the partition between her nostrils. Her head was bent upon
- her shoulder, and the pearl tips of her white teeth were seen
- between her lips.</p>
-<p>&quot;Is she making fun of me?&quot; thought Rodolphe.</p>
-<p>Emma's gesture, however, had only been meant for a warning; for
- Monsieur Lheureux was accompanying them, and spoke now and again
- as if to enter into the conversation.</p>
-<p>&quot;What a superb day! Everybody is out! The wind is east!&quot;</p>
-<p>And neither Madame Bovary nor Rodolphe answered him, whilst at
- the slightest movement made by them he drew near, saying, &quot;I beg
- your pardon!&quot; and raised his hat.</p>
-<p>When they reached the farrier's house, instead of following the
- road up to the fence, Rodolphe suddenly turned down a path,
- drawing with him Madame Bovary. He called out--</p>
-<p>&quot;Good evening, Monsieur Lheureux! See you again presently.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;How you got rid of him!&quot; she said, laughing.</p>
-<p>&quot;Why,&quot; he went on, &quot;allow oneself to be intruded upon by others?
- And as to-day I have the happiness of being with you--&quot;</p>
-<p>Emma blushed. He did not finish his sentence. Then he talked of
- the fine weather and of the pleasure of walking on the grass. A
- few daisies had sprung up again.</p>
-<p>&quot;Here are some pretty Easter daisies,&quot; he said, &quot;and enough
- of
- them to furnish oracles to all the amorous maids in the place.&quot;</p>
-<p>He added, &quot;Shall I pick some? What do you think?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Are you in love?&quot; she asked, coughing a little.</p>
-<p>&quot;H'm, h'm! who knows?&quot; answered Rodolphe.</p>
-<p>The meadow began to fill, and the housewives hustled you with
- their great umbrellas, their baskets, and their babies. One had
- often to get out of the way of a long file of country folk,
- servant-maids with blue stockings, flat shoes, silver rings, and
- who smelt of milk, when one passed close to them. They walked
- along holding one another by the hand, and thus they spread over
- the whole field from the row of open trees to the banquet tent.</p>
-<p>But this was the examination time, and the farmers one after the
- other entered a kind of enclosure formed by a long cord supported
- on sticks.</p>
-<p>The beasts were there, their noses towards the cord, and making a
- confused line with their unequal rumps. Drowsy pigs were
- burrowing in the earth with their snouts, calves were bleating,
- lambs baaing; the cows, on knees folded in, were stretching their
- bellies on the grass, slowly chewing the cud, and blinking their
- heavy eyelids at the gnats that buzzed round them. Plough-men
- with bare arms were holding by the halter prancing stallions that
- neighed with dilated nostrils looking towards the mares. These
- stood quietly, stretching out their heads and flowing manes,
- while their foals rested in their shadow, or now and then came
- and sucked them. And above the long undulation of these crowded
- animals one saw some white mane rising in the wind like a wave,
- or some sharp horns sticking out, and the heads of men running
- about. Apart, outside the enclosure, a hundred paces off, was a
- large black bull, muzzled, with an iron ring in its nostrils, and
- who moved no more than if he had been in bronze. A child in rags
- was holding him by a rope.</p>
-<p>Between the two lines the committee-men were walking with heavy
- steps, examining each animal, then consulting one another in a
- low voice. One who seemed of more importance now and then took
- notes in a book as he walked along. This was the president of the
- jury, Monsieur Derozerays de la Panville. As soon as he
- recognised Rodolphe he came forward quickly, and smiling amiably,
- said--</p>
-<p>&quot;What! Monsieur Boulanger, you are deserting us?&quot;</p>
-<p>Rodolphe protested that he was just coming. But when the
- president had disappeared--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ma foi!*&quot; said he, &quot;I shall not go. Your company is better
- than
- his.&quot;</p>
-<p>*Upon my word!</p>
-<p>And while poking fun at the show, Rodolphe, to move about more easily,
- showed the gendarme his blue card, and even stopped now and then in
- front of some fine beast, which Madame Bovary did not at all admire.
- He noticed this, and began jeering at the Yonville ladies and their
- dresses; then he apologised for the negligence of his own. He had that
- incongruity of common and elegant in which the habitually vulgar think
- they see the revelation of an eccentric existence, of the
- perturbations of sentiment, the tyrannies of art, and always a
- certain contempt for social conventions, that seduces or
- exasperates them. Thus his cambric shirt with plaited cuffs was
- blown out by the wind in the opening of his waistcoat of grey
- ticking, and his broad-striped trousers disclosed at the ankle
- nankeen boots with patent leather gaiters.</p>
-<p>These were so polished that they reflected the grass. He trampled
- on horses's dung with them, one hand in the pocket of his jacket
- and his straw hat on one side.</p>
-<p>&quot;Besides,&quot; added he, &quot;when one lives in the country--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;It's waste of time,&quot; said Emma.</p>
-<p>&quot;That is true,&quot; replied Rodolphe. &quot;To think that not one of
- these
- people is capable of understanding even the cut of a coat!&quot;</p>
-<p>Then they talked about provincial mediocrity, of the lives it
- crushed, the illusions lost there.</p>
-<p>&quot;And I too,&quot; said Rodolphe, &quot;am drifting into depression.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;You!&quot; she said in astonishment; &quot;I thought you very
- light-hearted.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! yes. I seem so, because in the midst of the world I know how
- to wear the mask of a scoffer upon my face; and yet, how many a
- time at the sight of a cemetery by moonlight have I not asked
- myself whether it were not better to join those sleeping there!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh! and your friends?&quot; she said. &quot;You do not think of them.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;My friends! What friends? Have I any? Who cares for me?&quot; And he
- accompanied the last words with a kind of whistling of the lips.</p>
-<p>But they were obliged to separate from each other because of a
- great pile of chairs that a man was carrying behind them. He was
- so overladen with them that one could only see the tips of his
- wooden shoes and the ends of his two outstretched arms. It was
- Lestiboudois, the gravedigger, who was carrying the church chairs
- about amongst the people. Alive to all that concerned his
- interests, he had hit upon this means of turning the show to
- account; and his idea was succeeding, for he no longer knew which
- way to turn. In fact, the villagers, who were hot, quarreled for
- these seats, whose straw smelt of incense, and they leant against
- the thick backs, stained with the wax of candles, with a certain
- veneration.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary again took Rodolphe's arm; he went on as if
- speaking to himself--</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, I have missed so many things. Always alone! Ah! if I had
- some aim in life, if I had met some love, if I had found someone!
- Oh, how I would have spent all the energy of which I am capable,
- surmounted everything, overcome everything!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yet it seems to me,&quot; said Emma, &quot;that you are not to be pitied.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! you think so?&quot; said Rodolphe.</p>
-<p>&quot;For, after all,&quot; she went on, &quot;you are free--&quot; she hesitated,
- &quot;rich--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Do not mock me,&quot; he replied.</p>
-<p>And she protested that she was not mocking him, when the report
- of a cannon resounded. Immediately all began hustling one another
- pell-mell towards the village.</p>
-<p>It was a false alarm. The prefect seemed not to be coming, and
- the members of the jury felt much embarrassed, not knowing if
- they ought to begin the meeting or still wait.</p>
-<p>At last at the end of the Place a large hired landau appeared,
- drawn by two thin horses, which a coachman in a white hat was
- whipping lustily. Binet had only just time to shout, &quot;Present
- arms!&quot; and the colonel to imitate him. All ran towards the
- enclosure; everyone pushed forward. A few even forgot their
- collars; but the equipage of the prefect seemed to anticipate the
- crowd, and the two yoked jades, trapesing in their harness, came
- up at a little trot in front of the peristyle of the town hall at
- the very moment when the National Guard and firemen deployed,
- beating drums and marking time.</p>
-<p>&quot;Present!&quot; shouted Binet.</p>
-<p>&quot;Halt!&quot; shouted the colonel. &quot;Left about, march.&quot;</p>
-<p>And after presenting arms, during which the clang of the band,
- letting loose, rang out like a brass kettle rolling downstairs,
- all the guns were lowered. Then was seen stepping down from the
- carriage a gentleman in a short coat with silver braiding, with
- bald brow, and wearing a tuft of hair at the back of his head, of
- a sallow complexion and the most benign appearance. His eyes,
- very large and covered by heavy lids, were half-closed to look at
- the crowd, while at the same time he raised his sharp nose, and
- forced a smile upon his sunken mouth. He recognised the mayor by
- his scarf, and explained to him that the prefect was not able to
- come. He himself was a councillor at the prefecture; then he
- added a few apologies. Monsieur Tuvache answered them with
- compliments; the other confessed himself nervous; and they
- remained thus, face to face, their foreheads almost touching,
- with the members of the jury all round, the municipal council,
- the notable personages, the National Guard and the crowd. The
- councillor pressing his little cocked hat to his breast repeated
- his bows, while Tuvache, bent like a bow, also smiled, stammered,
- tried to say something, protested his devotion to the monarchy
- and the honour that was being done to Yonville.</p>
-<p>Hippolyte, the groom from the inn, took the head of the horses
- from the coachman, and, limping along with his club-foot, led
- them to the door of the &quot;Lion d'Or&quot;, where a number of peasants
- collected to look at the carriage. The drum beat, the howitzer
- thundered, and the gentlemen one by one mounted the platform,
- where they sat down in red utrecht velvet arm-chairs that had
- been lent by Madame Tuvache.</p>
-<p>All these people looked alike. Their fair flabby faces, somewhat
- tanned by the sun, were the colour of sweet cider, and their
- puffy whiskers emerged from stiff collars, kept up by white
- cravats with broad bows. All the waist-coats were of velvet,
- double-breasted; all the watches had, at the end of a long
- ribbon, an oval cornelian seal; everyone rested his two hands on
- his thighs, carefully stretching the stride of their trousers,
- whose unsponged glossy cloth shone more brilliantly than the
- leather of their heavy boots.</p>
-<p>The ladies of the company stood at the back under the vestibule
- between the pillars while the common herd was opposite, standing
- up or sitting on chairs. As a matter of fact, Lestiboudois had
- brought thither all those that he had moved from the field, and
- he even kept running back every minute to fetch others from the
- church. He caused such confusion with this piece of business that
- one had great difficulty in getting to the small steps of the
- platform.</p>
-<p>&quot;I think,&quot; said Monsieur Lheureux to the chemist, who was passing
- to his place, &quot;that they ought to have put up two Venetian masts
- with something rather severe and rich for ornaments; it would
- have been a very pretty effect.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;To be sure,&quot; replied Homais; &quot;but what can you expect? The
- mayor
- took everything on his own shoulders. He hasn't much taste. Poor
- Tuvache! and he is even completely destitute of what is called
- the genius of art.&quot;</p>
-<p>Rodolphe, meanwhile, with Madame Bovary, had gone up to the first
- floor of the town hall, to the &quot;council-room,&quot; and, as it was
- empty, he declared that they could enjoy the sight there more
- comfortably. He fetched three stools from the round table under
- the bust of the monarch, and having carried them to one of the
- windows, they sat down by each other.</p>
-<p>There was commotion on the platform, long whisperings, much
- parleying. At last the councillor got up. They knew now that his
- name was Lieuvain, and in the crowd the name was passed from one
- to the other. After he had collated a few pages, and bent over
- them to see better, he began--</p>
-<p>&quot;Gentlemen! May I be permitted first of all (before addressing
- you on the object of our meeting to-day, and this sentiment will,
- I am sure, be shared by you all), may I be permitted, I say, to
- pay a tribute to the higher administration, to the government to
- the monarch, gentle men, our sovereign, to that beloved king, to
- whom no branch of public or private prosperity is a matter of
- indifference, and who directs with a hand at once so firm and
- wise the chariot of the state amid the incessant perils of a
- stormy sea, knowing, moreover, how to make peace respected as
- well as war, industry, commerce, agriculture, and the fine arts?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I ought,&quot; said Rodolphe, &quot;to get back a little further.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why?&quot; said Emma.</p>
-<p>But at this moment the voice of the councillor rose to an
- extraordinary pitch. He declaimed--</p>
-<p>&quot;This is no longer the time, gentlemen, when civil discord
- ensanguined our public places, when the landlord, the
- business-man, the working-man himself, falling asleep at night,
- lying down to peaceful sleep, trembled lest he should be awakened
- suddenly by the noise of incendiary tocsins, when the most
- subversive doctrines audaciously sapped foundations.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, someone down there might see me,&quot; Rodolphe resumed, &quot;then
- I should have to invent excuses for a fortnight; and with my bad
- reputation--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, you are slandering yourself,&quot; said Emma.</p>
-<p>&quot;No! It is dreadful, I assure you.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But, gentlemen,&quot; continued the councillor, &quot;if, banishing from
- my memory the remembrance of these sad pictures, I carry my eyes
- back to the actual situation of our dear country, what do I see
- there? Everywhere commerce and the arts are flourishing;
- everywhere new means of communication, like so many new arteries
- in the body of the state, establish within it new relations. Our
- great industrial centres have recovered all their activity;
- religion, more consolidated, smiles in all hearts; our ports are
- full, confidence is born again, and France breathes once more!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Besides,&quot; added Rodolphe, &quot;perhaps from the world's point of
- view they are right.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;How so?&quot; she asked.</p>
-<p>&quot;What!&quot; said he. &quot;Do you not know that there are souls constantly
- tormented? They need by turns to dream and to act, the purest
- passions and the most turbulent joys, and thus they fling
- themselves into all sorts of fantasies, of follies.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then she looked at him as one looks at a traveller who has
- voyaged over strange lands, and went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;We have not even this distraction, we poor women!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;A sad distraction, for happiness isn't found in it.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But is it ever found?&quot; she asked.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes; one day it comes,&quot; he answered.</p>
-<p>&quot;And this is what you have understood,&quot; said the councillor.</p>
-<p>&quot;You, farmers, agricultural labourers! you pacific pioneers of a
- work that belongs wholly to civilization! you, men of progress
- and morality, you have understood, I say, that political storms
- are even more redoubtable than atmospheric disturbances!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;It comes one day,&quot; repeated Rodolphe, &quot;one day suddenly, and
- when one is despairing of it. Then the horizon expands; it is as
- if a voice cried, 'It is here!' You feel the need of confiding
- the whole of your life, of giving everything, sacrificing
- everything to this being. There is no need for explanations; they
- understand one another. They have seen each other in dreams!&quot;</p>
-<p>(And he looked at her.) &quot;In fine, here it is, this treasure so
- sought after, here before you. It glitters, it flashes; yet one
- still doubts, one does not believe it; one remains dazzled, as if
- one went out iron darkness into light.&quot;</p>
-<p>And as he ended Rodolphe suited the action to the word. He passed
- his hand over his face, like a man seized with giddiness. Then he
- let it fall on Emma's. She took hers away.</p>
-<p>&quot;And who would be surprised at it, gentlemen? He only who is so
- blind, so plunged (I do not fear to say it), so plunged in the
- prejudices of another age as still to misunderstand the spirit of
- agricultural populations. Where, indeed, is to be found more
- patriotism than in the country, greater devotion to the public
- welfare, more intelligence, in a word? And, gentlemen, I do not
- mean that superficial intelligence, vain ornament of idle minds,
- but rather that profound and balanced intelligence that applies
- itself above all else to useful objects, thus contributing to the
- good of all, to the common amelioration and to the support of the
- state, born of respect for law and the practice of duty--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! again!&quot; said Rodolphe. &quot;Always 'duty.' I am sick of the
- word. They are a lot of old blockheads in flannel vests and of
- old women with foot-warmers and rosaries who constantly drone
- into our ears 'Duty, duty!' Ah! by Jove! one's duty is to feel
- what is great, cherish the beautiful, and not accept all the
- conventions of society with the ignominy that it imposes upon
- us.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yet--yet--&quot; objected Madame Bovary.</p>
-<p>&quot;No, no! Why cry out against the passions? Are they not the one
- beautiful thing on the earth, the source of heroism, of
- enthusiasm, of poetry, music, the arts, of everything, in a
- word?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But one must,&quot; said Emma, &quot;to some extent bow to the opinion
- of
- the world and accept its moral code.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! but there are two,&quot; he replied. &quot;The small, the
- conventional, that of men, that which constantly changes, that
- brays out so loudly, that makes such a commotion here below, of
- the earth earthly, like the mass of imbeciles you see down there.
- But the other, the eternal, that is about us and above, like the
- landscape that surrounds us, and the blue heavens that give us
- light.&quot;</p>
-<p>Monsieur Lieuvain had just wiped his mouth with a
- pocket-handkerchief. He continued--</p>
-<p>&quot;And what should I do here gentlemen, pointing out to you the
- uses of agriculture? Who supplies our wants? Who provides our
- means of subsistence? Is it not the agriculturist? The
- agriculturist, gentlemen, who, sowing with laborious hand the
- fertile furrows of the country, brings forth the corn, which,
- being ground, is made into a powder by means of ingenious
- machinery, comes out thence under the name of flour, and from
- there, transported to our cities, is soon delivered at the
- baker's, who makes it into food for poor and rich alike. Again,
- is it not the agriculturist who fattens, for our clothes, his
- abundant flocks in the pastures? For how should we clothe
- ourselves, how nourish ourselves, without the agriculturist? And,
- gentlemen, is it even necessary to go so far for examples? Who
- has not frequently reflected on all the momentous things that we
- get out of that modest animal, the ornament of poultry-yards,
- that provides us at once with a soft pillow for our bed, with
- succulent flesh for our tables, and eggs? But I should never end
- if I were to enumerate one after the other all the different
- products which the earth, well cultivated, like a generous
- mother, lavishes upon her children. Here it is the vine,
- elsewhere the apple tree for cider, there colza, farther on
- cheeses and flax. Gentlemen, let us not forget flax, which has
- made such great strides of late years, and to which I will more
- particularly call your attention.&quot;</p>
-<p>He had no need to call it, for all the mouths of the multitude
- were wide open, as if to drink in his words. Tuvache by his side
- listened to him with staring eyes. Monsieur Derozerays from time
- to time softly closed his eyelids, and farther on the chemist,
- with his son Napoleon between his knees, put his hand behind his
- ear in order not to lose a syllable. The chins of the other
- members of the jury went slowly up and down in their waistcoats
- in sign of approval. The firemen at the foot of the platform
- rested on their bayonets; and Binet, motionless, stood with
- out-turned elbows, the point of his sabre in the air. Perhaps he
- could hear, but certainly he could see nothing, because of the
- visor of his helmet, that fell down on his nose. His lieutenant,
- the youngest son of Monsieur Tuvache, had a bigger one, for his
- was enormous, and shook on his head, and from it an end of his
- cotton scarf peeped out. He smiled beneath it with a perfectly
- infantine sweetness, and his pale little face, whence drops were
- running, wore an expression of enjoyment and sleepiness.</p>
-<p>The square as far as the houses was crowded with people. One saw
- folk leaning on their elbows at all the windows, others standing
- at doors, and Justin, in front of the chemist's shop, seemed
- quite transfixed by the sight of what he was looking at. In spite
- of the silence Monsieur Lieuvain's voice was lost in the air. It
- reached you in fragments of phrases, and interrupted here and
- there by the creaking of chairs in the crowd; then you suddenly
- heard the long bellowing of an ox, or else the bleating of the
- lambs, who answered one another at street corners. In fact, the
- cowherds and shepherds had driven their beasts thus far, and
- these lowed from time to time, while with their tongues they tore
- down some scrap of foliage that hung above their mouths.</p>
-<p>Rodolphe had drawn nearer to Emma, and said to her in a low
- voice, speaking rapidly--</p>
-<p>&quot;Does not this conspiracy of the world revolt you? Is there a
- single sentiment it does not condemn? The noblest instincts, the
- purest sympathies are persecuted, slandered; and if at length two
- poor souls do meet, all is so organised that they cannot blend
- together. Yet they will make the attempt; they will flutter their
- wings; they will call upon each other. Oh! no matter. Sooner or
- later, in six months, ten years, they will come together, will
- love; for fate has decreed it, and they are born one for the
- other.&quot;</p>
-<p>His arms were folded across his knees, and thus lifting his face
- towards Emma, close by her, he looked fixedly at her. She noticed
- in his eyes small golden lines radiating from black pupils; she
- even smelt the perfume of the pomade that made his hair glossy.</p>
-<p>Then a faintness came over her; she recalled the Viscount who had
- waltzed with her at Vaubyessard, and his beard exhaled like this
- air an odour of vanilla and citron, and mechanically she
- half-closed her eyes the better to breathe it in. But in making
- this movement, as she leant back in her chair, she saw in the
- distance, right on the line of the horizon, the old diligence,
- the &quot;Hirondelle,&quot; that was slowly descending the hill of Leux,
- dragging after it a long trail of dust. It was in this yellow
- carriage that Leon had so often come back to her, and by this
- route down there that he had gone for ever. She fancied she saw
- him opposite at his windows; then all grew confused; clouds
- gathered; it seemed to her that she was again turning in the
- waltz under the light of the lustres on the arm of the Viscount,
- and that Leon was not far away, that he was coming; and yet all
- the time she was conscious of the scent of Rodolphe's head by her
- side. This sweetness of sensation pierced through her old
- desires, and these, like grains of sand under a gust of wind,
- eddied to and fro in the subtle breath of the perfume which
- suffused her soul. She opened wide her nostrils several times to
- drink in the freshness of the ivy round the capitals. She took
- off her gloves, she wiped her hands, then fanned her face with
- her handkerchief, while athwart the throbbing of her temples she
- heard the murmur of the crowd and the voice of the councillor
- intoning his phrases. He said--&quot;Continue, persevere; listen
- neither to the suggestions of routine, nor to the over-hasty
- councils of a rash empiricism.</p>
-<p>&quot;Apply yourselves, above all, to the amelioration of the soil, to
- good manures, to the development of the equine, bovine, ovine,
- and porcine races. Let these shows be to you pacific arenas,
- where the victor in leaving it will hold forth a hand to the
- vanquished, and will fraternise with him in the hope of better
- success. And you, aged servants, humble domestics, whose hard
- labour no Government up to this day has taken into consideration,
- come hither to receive the reward of your silent virtues, and be
- assured that the state henceforward has its eye upon you; that it
- encourages you, protects you; that it will accede to your just
- demands, and alleviate as much as in it lies the burden of your
- painful sacrifices.&quot;</p>
-<p>Monsieur Lieuvain then sat down; Monsieur Derozerays got up,
- beginning another speech. His was not perhaps so florid as that
- of the councillor, but it recommended itself by a more direct
- style, that is to say, by more special knowledge and more
- elevated considerations. Thus the praise of the Government took
- up less space in it; religion and agriculture more. He showed in
- it the relations of these two, and how they had always
- contributed to civilisation. Rodolphe with Madame Bovary was
- talking dreams, presentiments, magnetism. Going back to the
- cradle of society, the orator painted those fierce times when men
- lived on acorns in the heart of woods. Then they had left off the
- skins of beasts, had put on cloth, tilled the soil, planted the
- vine. Was this a good, and in this discovery was there not more
- of injury than of gain? Monsieur Derozerays set himself this
- problem. From magnetism little by little Rodolphe had come to
- affinities, and while the president was citing Cincinnatus and
- his plough, Diocletian, planting his cabbages, and the Emperors
- of China inaugurating the year by the sowing of seed, the young
- man was explaining to the young woman that these irresistible
- attractions find their cause in some previous state of existence.</p>
-<p>&quot;Thus we,&quot; he said, &quot;why did we come to know one another? What
- chance willed it? It was because across the infinite, like two
- streams that flow but to unite; our special bents of mind had
- driven us towards each other.&quot;</p>
-<p>And he seized her hand; she did not withdraw it.</p>
-<p>&quot;For good farming generally!&quot; cried the president.</p>
-<p>&quot;Just now, for example, when I went to your house.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;To Monsieur Bizat of Quincampoix.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Did I know I should accompany you?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Seventy francs.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;A hundred times I wished to go; and I followed you--I remained.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Manures!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;And I shall remain to-night, to-morrow, all other days, all my
- life!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;To Monsieur Caron of Argueil, a gold medal!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;For I have never in the society of any other person found so
- complete a charm.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;To Monsieur Bain of Givry-Saint-Martin.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;And I shall carry away with me the remembrance of you.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;For a merino ram!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But you will forget me; I shall pass away like a shadow.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;To Monsieur Belot of Notre-Dame.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, no! I shall be something in your thought, in your life,
- shall I not?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Porcine race; prizes--equal, to Messrs. Leherisse and
- Cullembourg, sixty francs!&quot;</p>
-<p>Rodolphe was pressing her hand, and he felt it all warm and
- quivering like a captive dove that wants to fly away; but,
- whether she was trying to take it away or whether she was
- answering his pressure; she made a movement with her fingers. He
- exclaimed--</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, I thank you! You do not repulse me! You are good! You
- understand that I am yours! Let me look at you; let me
- contemplate you!&quot;</p>
-<p>A gust of wind that blew in at the window ruffled the cloth on
- the table, and in the square below all the great caps of the
- peasant women were uplifted by it like the wings of white
- butterflies fluttering.</p>
-<p>&quot;Use of oil-cakes,&quot; continued the president. He was hurrying on:
- &quot;Flemish manure-flax-growing-drainage-long leases-domestic
- service.&quot;</p>
-<p>Rodolphe was no longer speaking. They looked at one another. A
- supreme desire made their dry lips tremble, and wearily, without
- an effort, their fingers intertwined.</p>
-<p>&quot;Catherine Nicaise Elizabeth Leroux, of Sassetot-la-Guerriere,
- for fifty-four years of service at the same farm, a silver
- medal--value, twenty-five francs!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Where is Catherine Leroux?&quot; repeated the councillor.</p>
-<p>She did not present herself, and one could hear voices
- whispering--</p>
-<p>&quot;Go up!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Don't be afraid!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, how stupid she is!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, is she there?&quot; cried Tuvache.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes; here she is.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Then let her come up!&quot;</p>
-<p>Then there came forward on the platform a little old woman with
- timid bearing, who seemed to shrink within her poor clothes. On
- her feet she wore heavy wooden clogs, and from her hips hung a
- large blue apron. Her pale face framed in a borderless cap was
- more wrinkled than a withered russet apple. And from the sleeves
- of her red jacket looked out two large hands with knotty joints,
- the dust of barns, the potash of washing the grease of wools had
- so encrusted, roughened, hardened these that they seemed dirty,
- although they had been rinsed in clear water; and by dint of long
- service they remained half open, as if to bear humble witness for
- themselves of so much suffering endured. Something of monastic
- rigidity dignified her face. Nothing of sadness or of emotion
- weakened that pale look. In her constant living with animals she
- had caught their dumbness and their calm. It was the first time
- that she found herself in the midst of so large a company, and
- inwardly scared by the flags, the drums, the gentlemen in
- frock-coats, and the order of the councillor, she stood
- motionless, not knowing whether to advance or run away, nor why
- the crowd was pushing her and the jury were smiling at her.</p>
-<p>Thus stood before these radiant bourgeois this half-century of
- servitude.</p>
-<p>&quot;Approach, venerable Catherine Nicaise Elizabeth Leroux!&quot; said
- the councillor, who had taken the list of prize-winners from the
- president; and, looking at the piece of paper and the old woman
- by turns, he repeated in a fatherly tone--&quot;Approach! approach!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Are you deaf?&quot; said Tuvache, fidgeting in his armchair; and he
- began shouting in her ear, &quot;Fifty-four years of service. A silver
- medal! Twenty-five francs! For you!&quot;</p>
-<p>Then, when she had her medal, she looked at it, and a smile of
- beatitude spread over her face; and as she walked away they could
- hear her muttering &quot;I'll give it to our cure up home, to say some
- masses for me!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What fanaticism!&quot; exclaimed the chemist, leaning across to the
- notary.</p>
-<p>The meeting was over, the crowd dispersed, and now that the
- speeches had been read, each one fell back into his place again,
- and everything into the old grooves; the masters bullied the
- servants, and these struck the animals, indolent victors, going
- back to the stalls, a green-crown on their horns.</p>
-<p>The National Guards, however, had gone up to the first floor of
- the town hall with buns spitted on their bayonets, and the
- drummer of the battalion carried a basket with bottles. Madame
- Bovary took Rodolphe's arm; he saw her home; they separated at
- her door; then he walked about alone in the meadow while he
- waited for the time of the banquet.</p>
-<p>The feast was long, noisy, ill served; the guests were so crowded
- that they could hardly move their elbows; and the narrow planks
- used for forms almost broke down under their weight. They ate
- hugely. Each one stuffed himself on his own account. Sweat stood
- on every brow, and a whitish steam, like the vapour of a stream
- on an autumn morning, floated above the table between the hanging
- lamps. Rodolphe, leaning against the calico of the tent was
- thinking so earnestly of Emma that he heard nothing. Behind him
- on the grass the servants were piling up the dirty plates, his
- neighbours were talking; he did not answer them; they filled his
- glass, and there was silence in his thoughts in spite of the
- growing noise. He was dreaming of what she had said, of the line
- of her lips; her face, as in a magic mirror, shone on the plates
- of the shakos, the folds of her gown fell along the walls, and
- days of love unrolled to all infinity before him in the vistas of
- the future.</p>
-<p>He saw her again in the evening during the fireworks, but she was
- with her husband, Madame Homais, and the druggist, who was
- worrying about the danger of stray rockets, and every moment he
- left the company to go and give some advice to Binet.</p>
-<p>The pyrotechnic pieces sent to Monsieur Tuvache had, through an
- excess of caution, been shut up in his cellar, and so the damp
- powder would not light, and the principal set piece, that was to
- represent a dragon biting his tail, failed completely. Now and
- then a meagre Roman-candle went off; then the gaping crowd sent
- up a shout that mingled with the cry of the women, whose waists
- were being squeezed in the darkness. Emma silently nestled
- against Charles's shoulder; then, raising her chin, she watched
- the luminous rays of the rockets against the dark sky. Rodolphe
- gazed at her in the light of the burning lanterns.</p>
-<p>They went out one by one. The stars shone out. A few crops of
- rain began to fall. She knotted her fichu round her bare head.</p>
-<p>At this moment the councillor's carriage came out from the inn.</p>
-<p>His coachman, who was drunk, suddenly dozed off, and one could
- see from the distance, above the hood, between the two lanterns,
- the mass of his body, that swayed from right to left with the
- giving of the traces.</p>
-<p>&quot;Truly,&quot; said the druggist, &quot;one ought to proceed most rigorously
- against drunkenness! I should like to see written up weekly at
- the door of the town hall on a board ad hoc* the names of all
- those who during the week got intoxicated on alcohol. Besides,
- with regard to statistics, one would thus have, as it were,
- public records that one could refer to in case of need. But
- excuse me!&quot;</p>
-<p>*Specifically for that.</p>
-<p>And he once more ran off to the captain. The latter was going
- back to see his lathe again.</p>
-<p>&quot;Perhaps you would not do ill,&quot; Homais said to him, &quot;to send
- one
- of your men, or to go yourself--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Leave me alone!&quot; answered the tax-collector. &quot;It's all right!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Do not be uneasy,&quot; said the druggist, when he returned to his
- friends. &quot;Monsieur Binet has assured me that all precautions have
- been taken. No sparks have fallen; the pumps are full. Let us go
- to rest.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ma foi! I want it,&quot; said Madame Homais, yawning at large. &quot;But
- never mind; we've had a beautiful day for our fete.&quot;</p>
-<p>Rodolphe repeated in a low voice, and with a tender look, &quot;Oh,
- yes! very beautiful!&quot;</p>
-<p>And having bowed to one another, they separated.</p>
-<p>Two days later, in the &quot;Final de Rouen,&quot; there was a long article
- on the show. Homais had composed it with verve the very next
- morning.</p>
-<p>&quot;Why these festoons, these flowers, these garlands? Whither
- hurries this crowd like the waves of a furious sea under the
- torrents of a tropical sun pouring its heat upon our heads?&quot;</p>
-<p>Then he spoke of the condition of the peasants. Certainly the
- Government was doing much, but not enough. &quot;Courage!&quot; he cried to
- it; &quot;a thousand reforms are indispensable; let us accomplish
- them!&quot; Then touching on the entry of the councillor, he did not
- forget &quot;the martial air of our militia;&quot; nor &quot;our most merry
- village maidens;&quot; nor the &quot;bald-headed old men like patriarchs
- who were there, and of whom some, the remnants of our phalanxes,
- still felt their hearts beat at the manly sound of the drums.&quot; He
- cited himself among the first of the members of the jury, and he
- even called attention in a note to the fact that Monsieur Homais,
- chemist, had sent a memoir on cider to the agricultural society.</p>
-<p>When he came to the distribution of the prizes, he painted the
- joy of the prize-winners in dithyrambic strophes. &quot;The father
- embraced the son, the brother the brother, the husband his
- consort. More than one showed his humble medal with pride; and no
- doubt when he got home to his good housewife, he hung it up
- weeping on the modest walls of his cot.</p>
-<p>&quot;About six o'clock a banquet prepared in the meadow of Monsieur Leigeard
- brought together the principal personages of the fete. The greatest cordiality
- reigned here. Divers toasts were proposed: Monsieur Lieuvain, the King; Monsieur
- Tuvache, the Prefect; Monsieur Derozerays, Agriculture; Monsieur Homais, Industry
- and the Fine Arts, those twin sisters; Monsieur Leplichey, Progress. In the
- evening some brilliant fireworks on a sudden illumined the air. One would have
- called it a veritable kaleidoscope, a real operatic scene; and for a moment
- our little locality might have thought itself transported into the midst of
- a dream of the 'Thousand and One Nights.' &quot;Let us state that no untoward
- event disturbed this family meeting.&quot; And he added &quot;Only the absence
- of the clergy was remarked. No doubt the priests understand progress in another
- fashion. Just as you please, messieurs the followers of Loyola!&quot;</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Nine</h3>
-<p>Six weeks passed. Rodolphe did not come again. At last one
- evening he appeared.</p>
-<p>The day after the show he had said to himself--&quot;We mustn't go
- back too soon; that would be a mistake.&quot;</p>
-<p>And at the end of a week he had gone off hunting. After the
- hunting he had thought it was too late, and then he reasoned
- thus--</p>
-<p>&quot;If from the first day she loved me, she must from impatience to
- see me again love me more. Let's go on with it!&quot;</p>
-<p>And he knew that his calculation had been right when, on entering
- the room, he saw Emma turn pale.</p>
-<p>She was alone. The day was drawing in. The small muslin curtain along the windows
- deepened the twilight, and the gilding of the barometer, on which the rays of
- the sun fell, shone in the looking-glass between the meshes of the coral.</p>
-<p>Rodolphe remained standing, and Emma hardly answered his first
- conventional phrases.</p>
-<p>&quot;I,&quot; he said, &quot;have been busy. I have been ill.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Seriously?&quot; she cried.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said Rodolphe, sitting down at her side on a footstool,
- &quot;no; it was because I did not want to come back.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Can you not guess?&quot;</p>
-<p>He looked at her again, but so hard that she lowered her head,
- blushing. He went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;Emma!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Sir,&quot; she said, drawing back a little.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! you see,&quot; replied he in a melancholy voice, &quot;that I was
- right not to come back; for this name, this name that fills my
- whole soul, and that escaped me, you forbid me to use! Madame
- Bovary! why all the world calls you thus! Besides, it is not your
- name; it is the name of another!&quot;</p>
-<p>He repeated, &quot;of another!&quot; And he hid his face in his hands.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, I think of you constantly. The memory of you drives me to
- despair. Ah! forgive me! I will leave you! Farewell! I will go
- far away, so far that you will never hear of me again; and yet--
- to-day--I know not what force impelled me towards you. For one
- does not struggle against Heaven; one cannot resist the smile of
- angels; one is carried away by that which is beautiful, charming,
- adorable.&quot;</p>
-<p>It was the first time that Emma had heard such words spoken to
- herself, and her pride, like one who reposes bathed in warmth,
- expanded softly and fully at this glowing language.</p>
-<p>&quot;But if I did not come,&quot; he continued, &quot;if I could not see you,
- at least I have gazed long on all that surrounds you. At
- night-every night-I arose; I came hither; I watched your house,
- its glimmering in the moon, the trees in the garden swaying
- before your window, and the little lamp, a gleam shining through
- the window-panes in the darkness. Ah! you never knew that there,
- so near you, so far from you, was a poor wretch!&quot;</p>
-<p>She turned towards him with a sob.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, you are good!&quot; she said.</p>
-<p>&quot;No, I love you, that is all! You do not doubt that! Tell me--one
- word--only one word!&quot;</p>
-<p>And Rodolphe imperceptibly glided from the footstool to the
- ground; but a sound of wooden shoes was heard in the kitchen, and
- he noticed the door of the room was not closed.</p>
-<p>&quot;How kind it would be of you,&quot; he went on, rising, &quot;if you would
- humour a whim of mine.&quot; It was to go over her house; he wanted to
- know it; and Madame Bovary seeing no objection to this, they both
- rose, when Charles came in.</p>
-<p>&quot;Good morning, doctor,&quot; Rodolphe said to him.</p>
-<p>The doctor, flattered at this unexpected title, launched out into
- obsequious phrases. Of this the other took advantage to pull
- himself together a little.</p>
-<p>&quot;Madame was speaking to me,&quot; he then said, &quot;about her health.&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles interrupted him; he had indeed a thousand anxieties; his
- wife's palpitations of the heart were beginning again. Then
- Rodolphe asked if riding would not be good.</p>
-<p>&quot;Certainly! excellent! just the thing! There's an idea! You ought
- to follow it up.&quot;</p>
-<p>And as she objected that she had no horse, Monsieur Rodolphe
- offered one. She refused his offer; he did not insist. Then to
- explain his visit he said that his ploughman, the man of the
- blood-letting, still suffered from giddiness.</p>
-<p>&quot;I'll call around,&quot; said Bovary.</p>
-<p>&quot;No, no! I'll send him to you; we'll come; that will be more
- convenient for you.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! very good! I thank you.&quot;</p>
-<p>And as soon as they were alone, &quot;Why don't you accept Monsieur
- Boulanger's kind offer?&quot;</p>
-<p>She assumed a sulky air, invented a thousand excuses, and finally
- declared that perhaps it would look odd.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, what the deuce do I care for that?&quot; said Charles, making a
- pirouette. &quot;Health before everything! You are wrong.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;And how do you think I can ride when I haven't got a habit?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;You must order one,&quot; he answered.</p>
-<p>The riding-habit decided her.</p>
-<p>When the habit was ready, Charles wrote to Monsieur Boulanger
- that his wife was at his command, and that they counted on his
- good-nature.</p>
-<p>The next day at noon Rodolphe appeared at Charles's door with two
- saddle-horses. One had pink rosettes at his ears and a deerskin
- side-saddle.</p>
-<p>Rodolphe had put on high soft boots, saying to himself that no
- doubt she had never seen anything like them. In fact, Emma was
- charmed with his appearance as he stood on the landing in his
- great velvet coat and white corduroy breeches. She was ready; she
- was waiting for him.</p>
-<p>Justin escaped from the chemist's to see her start, and the
- chemist also came out. He was giving Monsieur Boulanger a little
- good advice.</p>
-<p>&quot;An accident happens so easily. Be careful! Your horses perhaps
- are mettlesome.&quot;</p>
-<p>She heard a noise above her; it was Felicite drumming on the
- windowpanes to amuse little Berthe. The child blew her a kiss;
- her mother answered with a wave of her whip.</p>
-<p>&quot;A pleasant ride!&quot; cried Monsieur Homais. &quot;Prudence! above all,
- prudence!&quot; And he flourished his newspaper as he saw them
- disappear.</p>
-<p>As soon as he felt the ground, Emma's horse set off at a gallop.</p>
-<p>Rodolphe galloped by her side. Now and then they exchanged a
- word. Her figure slightly bent, her hand well up, and her right
- arm stretched out, she gave herself up to the cadence of the
- movement that rocked her in her saddle. At the bottom of the hill
- Rodolphe gave his horse its head; they started together at a
- bound, then at the top suddenly the horses stopped, and her large
- blue veil fell about her.</p>
-<p>It was early in October. There was fog over the land. Hazy clouds
- hovered on the horizon between the outlines of the hills; others,
- rent asunder, floated up and disappeared. Sometimes through a
- rift in the clouds, beneath a ray of sunshine, gleamed from afar
- the roots of Yonville, with the gardens at the water's edge, the
- yards, the walls and the church steeple. Emma half closed her
- eyes to pick out her house, and never had this poor village where
- she lived appeared so small. From the height on which they were
- the whole valley seemed an immense pale lake sending off its
- vapour into the air. Clumps of trees here and there stood out
- like black rocks, and the tall lines of the poplars that rose
- above the mist were like a beach stirred by the wind.</p>
-<p>By the side, on the turf between the pines, a brown light
- shimmered in the warm atmosphere. The earth, ruddy like the
- powder of tobacco, deadened the noise of their steps, and with
- the edge of their shoes the horses as they walked kicked the
- fallen fir cones in front of them.</p>
-<p>Rodolphe and Emma thus went along the skirt of the wood. She
- turned away from time to time to avoid his look, and then she saw
- only the pine trunks in lines, whose monotonous succession made
- her a little giddy. The horses were panting; the leather of the
- saddles creaked.</p>
-<p>Just as they were entering the forest the sun shone out.</p>
-<p>&quot;God protects us!&quot; said Rodolphe.</p>
-<p>&quot;Do you think so?&quot; she said.</p>
-<p>&quot;Forward! forward!&quot; he continued.</p>
-<p>He &quot;tchk'd&quot; with his tongue. The two beasts set off at a trot.</p>
-<p>Long ferns by the roadside caught in Emma's stirrup.</p>
-<p>Rodolphe leant forward and removed them as they rode along. At
- other times, to turn aside the branches, he passed close to her,
- and Emma felt his knee brushing against her leg. The sky was now
- blue, the leaves no longer stirred. There were spaces full of
- heather in flower, and plots of violets alternated with the
- confused patches of the trees that were grey, fawn, or golden
- coloured, according to the nature of their leaves. Often in the
- thicket was heard the fluttering of wings, or else the hoarse,
- soft cry of the ravens flying off amidst the oaks.</p>
-<p>They dismounted. Rodolphe fastened up the horses. She walked on
- in front on the moss between the paths. But her long habit got in
- her way, although she held it up by the skirt; and Rodolphe,
- walking behind her, saw between the black cloth and the black
- shoe the fineness of her white stocking, that seemed to him as if
- it were a part of her nakedness.</p>
-<p>She stopped. &quot;I am tired,&quot; she said.</p>
-<p>&quot;Come, try again,&quot; he went on. &quot;Courage!&quot;</p>
-<p>Then some hundred paces farther on she again stopped, and through
- her veil, that fell sideways from her man's hat over her hips,
- her face appeared in a bluish transparency as if she were
- floating under azure waves.</p>
-<p>&quot;But where are we going?&quot;</p>
-<p>He did not answer. She was breathing irregularly. Rodolphe looked
- round him biting his moustache. They came to a larger space where
- the coppice had been cut. They sat down on the trunk of a fallen
- tree, and Rodolphe began speaking to her of his love. He did not
- begin by frightening her with compliments. He was calm, serious,
- melancholy.</p>
-<p>Emma listened to him with bowed head, and stirred the bits of
- wood on the ground with the tip of her foot. But at the words,
- &quot;Are not our destinies now one?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, no! she replied. &quot;You know that well. It is impossible!&quot;
- She rose to go. He seized her by the wrist. She stopped. Then,
- having gazed at him for a few moments with an amorous and humid
- look, she said hurriedly--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! do not speak of it again! Where are the horses? Let us go
- back.&quot;</p>
-<p>He made a gesture of anger and annoyance. She repeated:</p>
-<p>&quot;Where are the horses? Where are the horses?&quot;</p>
-<p>Then smiling a strange smile, his pupil fixed, his teeth set, he
- advanced with outstretched arms. She recoiled trembling. She
- stammered:</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, you frighten me! You hurt me! Let me go!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;If it must be,&quot; he went on, his face changing; and he again
- became respectful, caressing, timid. She gave him her arm. They
- went back. He said--</p>
-<p>&quot;What was the matter with you? Why? I do not understand. You were
- mistaken, no doubt. In my soul you are as a Madonna on a
- pedestal, in a place lofty, secure, immaculate. But I need you to
- live! I must have your eyes, your voice, your thought! Be my
- friend, my sister, my angel!&quot;</p>
-<p>And he put out his arm round her waist. She feebly tried to
- disengage herself. He supported her thus as they walked along.</p>
-<p>But they heard the two horses browsing on the leaves.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh! one moment!&quot; said Rodolphe. &quot;Do not let us go! Stay!&quot;</p>
-<p>He drew her farther on to a small pool where duckweeds made a
- greenness on the water. Faded water lilies lay motionless between
- the reeds. At the noise of their steps in the grass, frogs jumped
- away to hide themselves.</p>
-<p>&quot;I am wrong! I am wrong!&quot; she said. &quot;I am mad to listen to you!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why? Emma! Emma!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, Rodolphe!&quot; said the young woman slowly, leaning on his
- shoulder.</p>
-<p>The cloth of her habit caught against the velvet of his coat. She
- threw back her white neck, swelling with a sigh, and faltering,
- in tears, with a long shudder and hiding her face, she gave
- herself up to him--</p>
-<p>The shades of night were falling; the horizontal sun passing
- between the branches dazzled the eyes. Here and there around her,
- in the leaves or on the ground, trembled luminous patches, as it
- hummingbirds flying about had scattered their feathers. Silence
- was everywhere; something sweet seemed to come forth from the
- trees; she felt her heart, whose beating had begun again, and the
- blood coursing through her flesh like a stream of milk. Then far
- away, beyond the wood, on the other hills, she heard a vague
- prolonged cry, a voice which lingered, and in silence she heard
- it mingling like music with the last pulsations of her throbbing
- nerves. Rodolphe, a cigar between his lips, was mending with his
- penknife one of the two broken bridles.</p>
-<p>They returned to Yonville by the same road. On the mud they saw
- again the traces of their horses side by side, the same thickets,
- the same stones to the grass; nothing around them seemed changed;
- and yet for her something had happened more stupendous than if
- the mountains had moved in their places. Rodolphe now and again
- bent forward and took her hand to kiss it.</p>
-<p>She was charming on horseback--upright, with her slender waist,
- her knee bent on the mane of her horse, her face somewhat flushed
- by the fresh air in the red of the evening.</p>
-<p>On entering Yonville she made her horse prance in the road.
- People looked at her from the windows.</p>
-<p>At dinner her husband thought she looked well, but she pretended
- not to hear him when he inquired about her ride, and she remained
- sitting there with her elbow at the side of her plate between the
- two lighted candles.</p>
-<p>&quot;Emma!&quot; he said.</p>
-<p>&quot;What?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, I spent the afternoon at Monsieur Alexandre's. He has an
- old cob, still very fine, only a little brokenkneed, and that
- could be bought; I am sure, for a hundred crowns.&quot; He added, &quot;And
- thinking it might please you, I have bespoken it--bought it. Have
- I done right? Do tell me?&quot;</p>
-<p>She nodded her head in assent; then a quarter of an hour later--</p>
-<p>&quot;Are you going out to-night?&quot; she asked.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes. Why?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, nothing, nothing, my dear!&quot;</p>
-<p>And as soon as she had got rid of Charles she went and shut
- herself up in her room.</p>
-<p>At first she felt stunned; she saw the trees, the paths, the
- ditches, Rodolphe, and she again felt the pressure of his arm,
- while the leaves rustled and the reeds whistled.</p>
-<p>But when she saw herself in the glass she wondered at her face.
- Never had her eyes been so large, so black, of so profound a
- depth. Something subtle about her being transfigured her. She
- repeated, &quot;I have a lover! a lover!&quot; delighting at the idea as if
- a second puberty had come to her. So at last she was to know
- those joys of love, that fever of happiness of which she had
- despairedl She was entering upon marvels where all would be
- passion, ecstasy, delirium. An azure infinity encompassed her,
- the heights of sentiment sparkled under her thought, and ordinary
- existence appeared only afar off, down below in the shade,
- through the interspaces of these heights.</p>
-<p>Then she recalled the heroines of the books that she had read,
- and the lyric legion of these adulterous women began to sing in
- her memory with the voice of sisters that charmed her. She became
- herself, as it were, an actual part of these imaginings, and
- realised the love-dream of her youth as she saw herself in this
- type of amorous women whom she had so envied. Besides, Emma felt
- a satisfaction of revenge. Had she not suffered enough? But now
- she triumphed, and the love so long pent up burst forth in full
- joyous bubblings. She tasted it without remorse, without anxiety,
- without trouble.</p>
-<p>The day following passed with a new sweetness. They made vows to
- one another She told him of her sorrows. Rodolphe interrupted her
- with kisses; and she looking at him through half-closed eyes,
- asked him to call her again by her name--to say that he loved her
- They were in the forest, as yesterday, in the shed of some
- woodenshoe maker. The walls were of straw, and the roof so low
- they had to stoop. They were seated side by side on a bed of dry
- leaves.</p>
-<p>From that day forth they wrote to one another regularly every
- evening. Emma placed her letter at the end of the garden, by the
- river, in a fissure of the wall. Rodolphe came to fetch it, and
- put another there, that she always found fault with as too
- short.</p>
-<p>One morning, when Charles had gone out before day break, she was
- seized with the fancy to see Rodolphe at once. She would go
- quickly to La Huchette, stay there an hour, and be back again at
- Yonville while everyone was still asleep. This idea made her pant
- with desire, and she soon found herself in the middle of the
- field, walking with rapid steps, without looking behind her.</p>
-<p>Day was just breaking. Emma from afar recognised her lover's
- house. Its two dove-tailed weathercocks stood out black against
- the pale dawn.</p>
-<p>Beyond the farmyard there was a detached building that she
- thought must be the chateau She entered--it was if the doors at
- her approach had opened wide of their own accord. A large
- straight staircase led up to the corridor. Emma raised the latch
- of a door, and suddenly at the end of the room she saw a man
- sleeping. It was Rodolphe. She uttered a cry.</p>
-<p>&quot;You here? You here?&quot; he repeated. &quot;How did you manage to come?
- Ah! your dress is damp.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I love you,&quot; she answered, throwing her arms about his neck.</p>
-<p>This first piece of daring successful, now every time Charles
- went out early Emma dressed quickly and slipped on tiptoe down
- the steps that led to the waterside.</p>
-<p>But when the plank for the cows was taken up, she had to go by
- the walls alongside of the river; the bank was slippery; in order
- not to fall she caught hold of the tufts of faded wallflowers.
- Then she went across ploughed fields, in which she sank,
- stumbling; and clogging her thin shoes. Her scarf, knotted round
- her head, fluttered to the wind in the meadows. She was afraid of
- the oxen; she began to run; she arrived out of breath, with rosy
- cheeks, and breathing out from her whole person a fresh perfume
- of sap, of verdure, of the open air. At this hour Rodolphe still
- slept. It was like a spring morning coming into his room.</p>
-<p>The yellow curtains along the windows let a heavy, whitish light
- enter softly. Emma felt about, opening and closing her eyes,
- while the drops of dew hanging from her hair formed, as it were,
- a topaz aureole around her face. Rodolphe, laughing, drew her to
- him, and pressed her to his breast.</p>
-<p>Then she examined the apartment, opened the drawers of the
- tables, combed her hair with his comb, and looked at herself in
- his shaving-glass. Often she even put between her teeth the big
- pipe that lay on the table by the bed, amongst lemons and pieces
- of sugar near a bottle of water.</p>
-<p>It took them a good quarter of an hour to say goodbye. Then Emma
- cried. She would have wished never to leave Rodolphe. Something
- stronger than herself forced her to him; so much so, that one
- day, seeing her come unexpectedly, he frowned as one put out.</p>
-<p>&quot;What is the matter with you?&quot; she said. &quot;Are you ill? Tell
- me!&quot;</p>
-<p>At last he declared with a serious air that her visits were becoming imprudent--that
- she was compromising herself.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Ten</h3>
-<p>Gradually Rodolphe's fears took possession of her. At first, love had intoxicated
- her; and she had thought of nothing beyond. But now that he was indispensable
- to her life, she feared to lose anything of this, or even that it should be
- disturbed. When she came back from his house she looked all about her, anxiously
- watching every form that passed in the horizon, and every village window from
- which she could be seen. She listened for steps, cries, the noise of the ploughs,
- and she stopped short, white, and trembling more than the aspen leaves swaying
- overhead. </p>
-<p>One morning as she was thus returning, she suddenly thought she
- saw the long barrel of a carbine that seemed to be aimed at her.
- It stuck out sideways from the end of a small tub half-buried in
- the grass on the edge of a ditch. Emma, half-fainting with
- terror, nevertheless walked on, and a man stepped out of the tub
- like a Jack-in-the-box. He had gaiters buckled up to the knees,
- his cap pulled down over his eyes, trembling lips, and a red
- nose. It was Captain Binet lying in ambush for wild ducks.</p>
-<p>&quot;You ought to have called out long ago!&quot; he exclaimed; &quot;When
- one
- sees a gun, one should always give warning.&quot;</p>
-<p>The tax-collector was thus trying to hide the fright he had had,
- for a prefectorial order having prohibited duckhunting except in
- boats, Monsieur Binet, despite his respect for the laws, was
- infringing them, and so he every moment expected to see the rural
- guard turn up. But this anxiety whetted his pleasure, and, all
- alone in his tub, he congratulated himself on his luck and on his
- cuteness. At sight of Emma he seemed relieved from a great
- weight, and at once entered upon a conversation.</p>
-<p>&quot;It isn't warm; it's nipping.&quot;</p>
-<p>Emma answered nothing. He went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;And you're out so early?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; she said stammering; &quot;I am just coming from the nurse
- where my child is.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! very good! very good! For myself, I am here, just as you
- see me, since break of day; but the weather is so muggy, that
- unless one had the bird at the mouth of the gun--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Good evening, Monsieur Binet,&quot; she interrupted him, turning on
- her heel.</p>
-<p>&quot;Your servant, madame,&quot; he replied drily; and he went back into
- his tub.</p>
-<p>Emma regretted having left the tax-collector so abruptly. No
- doubt he would form unfavourable conjectures. The story about the
- nurse was the worst possible excuse, everyone at Yonville knowing
- that the little Bovary had been at home with her parents for a
- year. Besides, no one was living in this direction; this path led
- only to La Huchette. Binet, then, would guess whence she came,
- and he would not keep silence; he would talk, that was certain.
- She remained until evening racking her brain with every
- conceivable lying project, and had constantly before her eyes
- that imbecile with the game-bag.</p>
-<p>Charles after dinner, seeing her gloomy, proposed, by way of
- distraction, to take her to the chemist's, and the first person
- she caught sight of in the shop was the taxcollector again. He
- was standing in front of the counter, lit up by the gleams of the
- red bottle, and was saying--</p>
-<p>&quot;Please give me half an ounce of vitriol.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Justin,&quot; cried the druggist, &quot;bring us the sulphuric acid.&quot;
- Then
- to Emma, who was going up to Madame Homais' room, &quot;No, stay here;
- it isn't worth while going up; she is just coming down. Warm
- yourself at the stove in the meantime. Excuse me. Good-day,
- doctor,&quot; (for the chemist much enjoyed pronouncing the word
- &quot;doctor,&quot; as if addressing another by it reflected on himself
- some of the grandeur that he found in it). &quot;Now, take care not to
- upset the mortars! You'd better fetch some chairs from the little
- room; you know very well that the arm-chairs are not to be taken
- out of the drawing-room.&quot;</p>
-<p>And to put his arm-chair back in its place he was darting away
- from the counter, when Binet asked him for half an ounce of sugar
- acid.</p>
-<p>&quot;Sugar acid!&quot; said the chemist contemptuously, &quot;don't know it;
- I'm ignorant of it! But perhaps you want oxalic acid. It is
- oxalic acid, isn't it?&quot;</p>
-<p>Binet explained that he wanted a corrosive to make himself some
- copperwater with which to remove rust from his hunting things.</p>
-<p>Emma shuddered. The chemist began saying--</p>
-<p>&quot;Indeed the weather is not propitious on account of the damp.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Nevertheless,&quot; replied the tax-collector, with a sly look,
- &quot;there are people who like it.&quot;</p>
-<p>She was stifling.</p>
-<p>&quot;And give me--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Will he never go?&quot; thought she.</p>
-<p>&quot;Half an ounce of resin and turpentine, four ounces of yellow
- wax, and three half ounces of animal charcoal, if you please, to
- clean the varnished leather of my togs.&quot;</p>
-<p>The druggist was beginning to cut the wax when Madame Homais
- appeared, Irma in her arms, Napoleon by her side, and Athalie
- following. She sat down on the velvet seat by the window, and the
- lad squatted down on a footstool, while his eldest sister hovered
- round the jujube box near her papa. The latter was filling
- funnels and corking phials, sticking on labels, making up
- parcels. Around him all were silent; only from time to time, were
- heard the weights jingling in the balance, and a few low words
- from the chemist giving directions to his pupil.</p>
-<p>&quot;And how's the little woman?&quot; suddenly asked Madame Homais.</p>
-<p>&quot;Silence!&quot; exclaimed her husband, who was writing down some
- figures in his waste-book.</p>
-<p>&quot;Why didn't you bring her?&quot; she went on in a low voice.</p>
-<p>&quot;Hush! hush!&quot; said Emma, pointing with her finger to the
- druggist.</p>
-<p>But Binet, quite absorbed in looking over his bill, had probably
- heard nothing. At last he went out. Then Emma, relieved, uttered
- a deep sigh.</p>
-<p>&quot;How hard you are breathing!&quot; said Madame Homais.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, you see, it's rather warm,&quot; she replied.</p>
-<p>So the next day they talked over how to arrange their rendezvous.
- Emma wanted to bribe her servant with a present, but it would be
- better to find some safe house at Yonville. Rodolphe promised to
- look for one.</p>
-<p>All through the winter, three or four times a week, in the dead
- of night he came to the garden. Emma had on purpose taken away
- the key of the gate, which Charles thought lost.</p>
-<p>To call her, Rodolphe threw a sprinkle of sand at the shutters.
- She jumped up with a start; but sometimes he had to wait, for
- Charles had a mania for chatting by the fireside, and he would
- not stop. She was wild with impatience; if her eyes could have
- done it, she would have hurled him out at the window. At last she
- would begin to undress, then take up a book, and go on reading
- very quietly as if the book amused her. But Charles, who was in
- bed, called to her to come too.</p>
-<p>&quot;Come, now, Emma,&quot; he said, &quot;it is time.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, I am coming,&quot; she answered.</p>
-<p>Then, as the candles dazzled him; he turned to the wall and fell
- asleep. She escaped, smiling, palpitating, undressed. Rodolphe
- had a large cloak; he wrapped her in it, and putting his arm
- round her waist, he drew her without a word to the end of the
- garden.</p>
-<p>It was in the arbour, on the same seat of old sticks where
- formerly Leon had looked at her so amorously on the summer
- evenings. She never thought of him now.</p>
-<p>The stars shone through the leafless jasmine branches. Behind
- them they heard the river flowing, and now and again on the bank
- the rustling of the dry reeds. Masses of shadow here and there
- loomed out in the darkness, and sometimes, vibrating with one
- movement, they rose up and swayed like immense black waves
- pressing forward to engulf them. The cold of the nights made them
- clasp closer; the sighs of their lips seemed to them deeper;
- their eyes that they could hardly see, larger; and in the midst
- of the silence low words were spoken that fell on their souls
- sonorous, crystalline, and that reverberated in multiplied
- vibrations.</p>
-<p>When the night was rainy, they took refuge in the consulting-room
- between the cart-shed and the stable. She lighted one of the
- kitchen candles that she had hidden behind the books. Rodolphe
- settled down there as if at home. The sight of the library, of
- the bureau, of the whole apartment, in fine, excited his
- merriment, and he could not refrain from making jokes about
- Charles, which rather embarrassed Emma. She would have liked to
- see him more serious, and even on occasions more dramatic; as,
- for example, when she thought she heard a noise of approaching
- steps in the alley.</p>
-<p>&quot;Someone is coming!&quot; she said.</p>
-<p>He blew out the light.</p>
-<p>&quot;Have you your pistols?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why, to defend yourself,&quot; replied Emma.</p>
-<p>&quot;From your husband? Oh, poor devil!&quot; And Rodolphe finished his
- sentence with a gesture that said, &quot;I could crush him with a
- flip of my finger.&quot;</p>
-<p>She was wonder-stricken at his bravery, although she felt in it a
- sort of indecency and a naive coarseness that scandalised her.</p>
-<p>Rodolphe reflected a good deal on the affair of the pistols. If
- she had spoken seriously, it was very ridiculous, he thought,
- even odious; for he had no reason to hate the good Charles, not
- being what is called devoured by jealousy; and on this subject
- Emma had taken a great vow that he did not think in the best of
- taste.</p>
-<p>Besides, she was growing very sentimental. She had insisted on
- exchanging miniatures; they had cut off handfuls of hair, and now
- she was asking for a ring--a real wedding-ring, in sign of an
- eternal union. She often spoke to him of the evening chimes, of
- the voices of nature. Then she talked to him of her mother--hers!
- and of his mother--his! Rodolphe had lost his twenty years ago.
- Emma none the less consoled him with caressing words as one would
- have done a lost child, and she sometimes even said to him,
- gazing at the moon</p>
-<p>&quot;I am sure that above there together they approve of our love.&quot;</p>
-<p>But she was so pretty. He had possessed so few women of such
- ingenuousness. This love without debauchery was a new experience
- for him, and, drawing him out of his lazy habits, caressed at
- once his pride and his sensuality. Emma's enthusiasm, which his
- bourgeois good sense disdained, seemed to him in his heart of
- hearts charming, since it was lavished on him. Then, sure of
- being loved, he no longer kept up appearances, and insensibly his
- ways changed.</p>
-<p>He had no longer, as formerly, words so gentle that they made her
- cry, nor passionate caresses that made her mad, so that their
- great love, which engrossed her life, seemed to lessen beneath
- her like the water of a stream absorbed into its channel, and she
- could see the bed of it. She would not believe it; she redoubled
- in tenderness, and Rodolphe concealed his indifference less and
- less.</p>
-<p>She did not know if she regretted having yielded to him, or
- whether she did not wish, on the contrary, to enjoy him the more.
- The humiliation of feeling herself weak was turning to rancour,
- tempered by their voluptuous pleasures. It was not affection; it
- was like a continual seduction. He subjugated her; she almost
- feared him.</p>
-<p>Appearances, nevertheless, were calmer than ever, Rodolphe having
- succeeded in carrying out the adultery after his own fancy; and
- at the end of six months, when the spring-time came, they were to
- one another like a married couple, tranquilly keeping up a
- domestic flame.</p>
-<p>It was the time of year when old Rouault sent his turkey in
- remembrance of the setting of his leg. The present always arrived
- with a letter. Emma cut the string that tied it to the basket,
- and read the following lines:--</p>
-<p>&quot;My Dear Children--I hope this will find you well, and that this
- one will be as good as the others. For it seems to me a little
- more tender, if I may venture to say so, and heavier. But next
- time, for a change, I'll give you a turkeycock, unless you have a
- preference for some dabs; and send me back the hamper, if you
- please, with the two old ones. I have had an accident with my
- cart-sheds, whose covering flew off one windy night among the
- trees. The harvest has not been overgood either. Finally, I don't
- know when I shall come to see you. It is so difficult now to
- leave the house since I am alone, my poor Emma.&quot;</p>
-<p>Here there was a break in the lines, as if the old fellow had
- dropped his pen to dream a little while.</p>
-<p>&quot;For myself, I am very well, except for a cold I caught the other
- day at the fair at Yvetot, where I had gone to hire a shepherd,
- having turned away mine because he was too dainty. How we are to
- be pitied with such a lot of thieves! Besides, he was also rude.
- I heard from a pedlar, who, travelling through your part of the
- country this winter, had a tooth drawn, that Bovary was as usual
- working hard. That doesn't surprise me; and he showed me his
- tooth; we had some coffee together. I asked him if he had seen
- you, and he said not, but that he had seen two horses in the
- stables, from which I conclude that business is looking up. So
- much the better, my dear children, and may God send you every
- imaginable happiness! It grieves me not yet to have seen my dear
- little grand-daughter, Berthe Bovary. I have planted an Orleans
- plum-tree for her in the garden under your room, and I won't have
- it touched unless it is to have jam made for her by and bye, that
- I will keep in the cupboard for her when she comes.</p>
-<p>&quot;Good-bye, my dear children. I kiss you, my girl, you too, my
- son-in-law, and the little one on both cheeks. I am, with best
- compliments, your loving father.</p>
-<p>&quot;Theodore Rouault.&quot;</p>
-<p>She held the coarse paper in her fingers for some minutes. The
- spelling mistakes were interwoven one with the other, and Emma
- followed the kindly thought that cackled right through it like a
- hen half hidden in the hedge of thorns. The writing had been
- dried with ashes from the hearth, for a little grey powder
- slipped from the letter on to her dress, and she almost thought
- she saw her father bending over the hearth to take up the tongs.
- How long since she had been with him, sitting on the footstool in
- the chimney-corner, where she used to burn the end of a bit of
- wood in the great flame of the sea-sedges! She remembered the
- summer evenings all full of sunshine. The colts neighed when
- anyone passed by, and galloped, galloped. Under her window there
- was a beehive, and sometimes the bees wheeling round in the light
- struck against her window like rebounding balls of gold. What
- happiness there had been at that time, what freedom, what hope!
- What an abundance of illusions! Nothing was left of them now. She
- had got rid of them all in her soul's life, in all her successive
- conditions of lifemaidenhood, her marriage, and her love--thus
- constantly losing them all her life through, like a traveller who
- leaves something of his wealth at every inn along his road.</p>
-<p>But what then, made her so unhappy? What was the extraordinary
- catastrophe that had transformed her? And she raised her head,
- looking round as if to seek the cause of that which made her
- suffer.</p>
-<p>An April ray was dancing on the china of the whatnot; the fire
- burned; beneath her slippers she felt the softness of the carpet;
- the day was bright, the air warm, and she heard her child
- shouting with laughter.</p>
-<p>In fact, the little girl was just then rolling on the lawn in the
- midst of the grass that was being turned. She was lying flat on
- her stomach at the top of a rick. The servant was holding her by
- her skirt. Lestiboudois was raking by her side, and every time he
- came near she lent forward, beating the air with both her arms.</p>
-<p>&quot;Bring her to me,&quot; said her mother, rushing to embrace her. &quot;How
- I love you, my poor child! How I love you!&quot;</p>
-<p>Then noticing that the tips of her ears were rather dirty, she
- rang at once for warm water, and washed her, changed her linen,
- her stockings, her shoes, asked a thousand questions about her
- health, as if on the return from a long journey, and finally,
- kissing her again and crying a little, she gave her back to the
- servant, who stood quite thunderstricken at this excess of
- tenderness.</p>
-<p>That evening Rodolphe found her more serious than usual.</p>
-<p>&quot;That will pass over,&quot; he concluded; &quot;it's a whim:&quot;</p>
-<p>And he missed three rendezvous running. When he did come, she
- showed herself cold and almost contemptuous.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! you're losing your time, my lady!&quot;</p>
-<p>And he pretended not to notice her melancholy sighs, nor the
- handkerchief she took out.</p>
-<p>Then Emma repented. She even asked herself why she detested Charles; if it
- had not been better to have been able to love him? But he gave her no opportunities
- for such a revival of sentiment, so that she was much embarrassed by her desire
- for sacrifice, when the druggist came just in time to provide her with an opportunity.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Eleven</h3>
-<p>He had recently read a eulogy on a new method for curing club-foot, and as
- he was a partisan of progress, he conceived the patriotic idea that Yonville,
- in order to keep to the fore, ought to have some operations for strephopody
- or club-foot.</p>
-<p>For,&quot; said he to Emma, &quot;what risk is there? See--&quot; (and he
- enumerated on his fingers the advantages of the attempt),
- &quot;success, almost certain relief and beautifying of the patient,
- celebrity acquired by the operator. Why, for example, should not
- your husband relieve poor Hippolyte of the 'Lion d'Or'? Note that
- he would not fail to tell about his cure to all the travellers,
- and then&quot; (Homais lowered his voice and looked round him) &quot;who is
- to prevent me from sending a short paragraph on the subject to
- the paper? Eh! goodness me! an article gets about; it is talked
- of; it ends by making a snowball! And who knows? who knows?&quot;</p>
-<p>In fact, Bovary might succeed. Nothing proved to Emma that he was
- not clever; and what a satisfaction for her to have urged him to
- a step by which his reputation and fortune would be increased!
- She only wished to lean on something more solid than love.</p>
-<p>Charles, urged by the druggist and by her, allowed himself to be
- persuaded. He sent to Rouen for Dr. Duval's volume, and every
- evening, holding his head between both hands, plunged into the
- reading of it.</p>
-<p>While he was studying equinus, varus, and valgus, that is to say,
- katastrephopody, endostrephopody, and exostrephopody (or better,
- the various turnings of the foot downwards, inwards, and
- outwards, with the hypostrephopody and anastrephopody), otherwise
- torsion downwards and upwards, Monsier Homais, with all sorts of
- arguments, was exhorting the lad at the inn to submit to the
- operation.</p>
-<p>&quot;You will scarcely feel, probably, a slight pain; it is a simple
- prick, like a little blood-letting, less than the extraction of
- certain corns.&quot;</p>
-<p>Hippolyte, reflecting, rolled his stupid eyes.</p>
-<p>&quot;However,&quot; continued the chemist, &quot;it doesn't concern me. It's
- for your sake, for pure humanity! I should like to see you, my
- friend, rid of your hideous caudication, together with that
- waddling of the lumbar regions which, whatever you say, must
- considerably interfere with you in the exercise of your calling.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then Homais represented to him how much jollier and brisker he
- would feel afterwards, and even gave him to understand that he
- would be more likely to please the women; and the stable-boy
- began to smile heavily. Then he attacked him through his vanity:</p>
-<p>&quot;Aren't you a man? Hang it! what would you have done if you had
- had to go into the army, to go and fight beneath the standard?
- Ah! Hippolyte!&quot;</p>
-<p>And Homais retired, declaring that he could not understand this
- obstinacy, this blindness in refusing the benefactions of
- science.</p>
-<p>The poor fellow gave way, for it was like a conspiracy. Binet,
- who never interfered with other people's business, Madame
- Lefrancois, Artemise, the neighbours, even the mayor, Monsieur
- Tuvache--everyone persuaded him, lectured him, shamed him; but
- what finally decided him was that it would cost him nothing.
- Bovary even undertook to provide the machine for the operation.
- This generosity was an idea of Emma's, and Charles consented to
- it, thinking in his heart of hearts that his wife was an angel.</p>
-<p>So by the advice of the chemist, and after three fresh starts, he
- had a kind of box made by the carpenter, with the aid of the
- locksmith, that weighed about eight pounds, and in which iron,
- wood, sheer-iron, leather, screws, and nuts had not been spared.</p>
-<p>But to know which of Hippolyte's tendons to cut, it was necessary
- first of all to find out what kind of club-foot he had.</p>
-<p>He had a foot forming almost a straight line with the leg, which,
- however, did not prevent it from being turned in, so that it was
- an equinus together with something of a varus, or else a slight
- varus with a strong tendency to equinus. But with this equinus,
- wide in foot like a horse's hoof, with rugose skin, dry tendons,
- and large toes, on which the black nails looked as if made of
- iron, the clubfoot ran about like a deer from morn till night. He
- was constantly to be seen on the Place, jumping round the carts,
- thrusting his limping foot forwards. He seemed even stronger on
- that leg than the other. By dint of hard service it had acquired,
- as it were, moral qualities of patience and energy; and when he
- was given some heavy work, he stood on it in preference to its
- fellow.</p>
-<p>Now, as it was an equinus, it was necessary to cut the tendon of
- Achilles, and, if need were, the anterior tibial muscle could be
- seen to afterwards for getting rid of the varus; for the doctor
- did not dare to risk both operations at once; he was even
- trembling already for fear of injuring some important region that
- he did not know.</p>
-<p>Neither Ambrose Pare, applying for the first time since Celsus,
- after an interval of fifteen centuries, a ligature to an artery,
- nor Dupuytren, about to open an abscess in the brain, nor Gensoul
- when he first took away the superior maxilla, had hearts that
- trembled, hands that shook, minds so strained as Monsieur Bovary
- when he approached Hippolyte, his tenotome between his fingers.
- And as at hospitals, near by on a table lay a heap of lint, with
- waxed thread, many bandages--a pyramid of bandages--every bandage
- to be found at the druggist's. It was Monsieur Homais who since
- morning had been organising all these preparations, as much to
- dazzle the multitude as to keep up his illusions. Charles pierced
- the skin; a dry crackling was heard. The tendon was cut, the
- operation over. Hippolyte could not get over his surprise, but
- bent over Bovary's hands to cover them with kisses.</p>
-<p>&quot;Come, be calm,&quot; said the druggist; &quot;later on you will show
- your
- gratitude to your benefactor.&quot;</p>
-<p>And he went down to tell the result to five or six inquirers who
- were waiting in the yard, and who fancied that Hippolyte would
- reappear walking properly. Then Charles, having buckled his
- patient into the machine, went home, where Emma, all anxiety,
- awaited him at the door. She threw herself on his neck; they sat
- down to table; he ate much, and at dessert he even wanted to take
- a cup of coffee, a luxury he only permitted himself on Sundays
- when there was company.</p>
-<p>The evening was charming, full of prattle, of dreams together.
- They talked about their future fortune, of the improvements to be
- made in their house; he saw people's estimation of him growing,
- his comforts increasing, his wife always loving him; and she was
- happy to refresh herself with a new sentiment, healthier, better,
- to feel at last some tenderness for this poor fellow who adored
- her. The thought of Rodolphe for one moment passed through her
- mind, but her eyes turned again to Charles; she even noticed with
- surprise that he had not bad teeth.</p>
-<p>They were in bed when Monsieur Homais, in spite of the servant,
- suddenly entered the room, holding in his hand a sheet of paper
- just written. It was the paragraph he intended for the &quot;Fanal de
- Rouen.&quot; He brought it for them to read.</p>
-<p>&quot;Read it yourself,&quot; said Bovary.</p>
-<p>He read--</p>
-<p>&quot; 'Despite the prejudices that still invest a part of the face of
- Europe like a net, the light nevertheless begins to penetrate our
- country places. Thus on Tuesday our little town of Yonville found
- itself the scene of a surgical operation which is at the same
- time an, act of loftiest philanthropy. Monsieur Bovary, one of
- our, most distinguished practitioners--'&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, that is too much! too much!&quot; said Charles, choking with
- emotion.</p>
-<p>&quot;No, no! not at all! What next!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot; '--Performed an operation on a club-footed man.' I have not
- used the scientific term, because you know in a newspaper
- everyone would not perhaps understand. The masses must--'&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No doubt,&quot; said Bovary; &quot;go on!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I proceed,&quot; said the chemist. &quot;'Monsieur Bovary, one of our
- most
- distinguished practitioners, performed an operation on a
- club-footed man called Hippolyte Tautain, stableman for the last
- twenty-five years at the hotel of the &quot;Lion d'Or,&quot; kept by Widow
- Lefrancois, at the Place d'Armes. The novelty of the attempt, and
- the interest incident to the subject, had attracted such a
- concourse of persons that there was a veritable obstruction on
- the threshold of the establishment. The operation, moreover, was
- performed as if by magic, and barely a few drops of blood
- appeared on the skin, as though to say that the rebellious tendon
- had at last given way beneath the efforts of art. The patient,
- strangely enough--we affirm it as an eye-witness--complained of
- no pain. His condition up to the present time leaves nothing to
- be desired. Everything tends to show that his convelescence will
- be brief; and who knows even if at our next village festivity we
- shall not see our good Hippolyte figuring in the bacchic dance in
- the midst of a chorus of joyous boon-companions, and thus proving
- to all eyes by his verve and his capers his complete cure?
- Honour, then, to the generous savants! Honour to those
- indefatigable spirits who consecrate their vigils to the
- amelioration or to the alleviation of their kind! Honour, thrice
- honour! Is it not time to cry that the blind shall see, the deaf
- hear, the lame walk? But that which fanaticism formerly promised
- to its elect, science now accomplishes for all men. We shall keep
- our readers informed as to the successive phases of this
- remarkable cure.' &quot;</p>
-<p>This did not prevent Mere Lefrancois, from coming five days
- after, scared, and crying out--</p>
-<p>&quot;Help! he is dying! I am going crazy!&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles rushed to the &quot;Lion d'Or,&quot; and the chemist, who caught
- sight of him passing along the Place hatless, abandoned his shop.
- He appeared himself breathless, red, anxious, and asking everyone
- who was going up the stairs--</p>
-<p>&quot;Why, what's the matter with our interesting strephopode?&quot;</p>
-<p>The strephopode was writhing in hideous convulsions, so that the
- machine in which his leg was enclosed was knocked against the
- wall enough to break it.</p>
-<p>With many precautions, in order not to disturb the position of
- the limb, the box was removed, and an awful sight presented
- itself. The outlines of the foot disappeared in such a swelling
- that the entire skin seemed about to burst, and it was covered
- with ecchymosis, caused by the famous machine. Hippolyte had
- already complained of suffering from it. No attention had been
- paid to him; they had to acknowledge that he had not been
- altogether wrong, and he was freed for a few hours. But, hardly
- had the oedema gone down to some extent, than the two savants
- thought fit to put back the limb in the apparatus, strapping it
- tighter to hasten matters. At last, three days after, Hippolyte
- being unable to endure it any longer, they once more removed
- the machine, and were much surprised at the result they saw. The
- livid tumefaction spread over the leg, with blisters here and
- there, whence there oozed a black liquid. Matters were taking a
- serious turn. Hippolyte began to worry himself, and Mere
- Lefrancois, had him installed in the little room near the
- kitchen, so that he might at least have some distraction.</p>
-<p>But the tax-collector, who dined there every day, complained
- bitterly of such companionship. Then Hippolyte was removed to the
- billiard-room. He lay there moaning under his heavy coverings,
- pale with long beard, sunken eyes, and from time to time turning
- his perspiring head on the dirty pillow, where the flies
- alighted. Madame Bovary went to see him. She brought him linen
- for his poultices; she comforted, and encouraged him. Besides, he
- did not want for company, especially on market-days, when the
- peasants were knocking about the billiard-balls round him, fenced
- with the cues, smoked, drank, sang, and brawled.</p>
-<p>&quot;How are you?&quot; they said, clapping him on the shoulder. &quot;Ah!
- you're not up to much, it seems, but it's your own fault. You
- should do this! do that!&quot; And then they told him stories of
- people who had all been cured by other remedies than his. Then by
- way of consolation they added--</p>
-<p>&quot;You give way too much! Get up! You coddle yourself like a king!
- All the same, old chap, you don't smell nice!&quot;</p>
-<p>Gangrene, in fact, was spreading more and more. Bovary himself
- turned sick at it. He came every hour, every moment. Hippolyte
- looked at him with eyes full of terror, sobbing--</p>
-<p>&quot;When shall I get well? Oh, save me! How unfortunate I am! How
- unfortunate I am!&quot;</p>
-<p>And the doctor left, always recommending him to diet himself.</p>
-<p>&quot;Don't listen to him, my lad,&quot; said Mere Lefrancois, &quot;Haven't
- they tortured you enough already? You'll grow still weaker. Here!
- swallow this.&quot;</p>
-<p>And she gave him some good beef-tea, a slice of mutton, a piece
- of bacon, and sometimes small glasses of brandy, that he had not
- the strength to put to his lips.</p>
-<p>Abbe Bournisien, hearing that he was growing worse, asked to see
- him. He began by pitying his sufferings, declaring at the same
- time that he ought to rejoice at them since it was the will of
- the Lord, and take advantage of the occasion to reconcile himself
- to Heaven.</p>
-<p>&quot;For,&quot; said the ecclesiastic in a paternal tone, &quot;you rather
- neglected your duties; you were rarely seen at divine worship.
- How many years is it since you approached the holy table? I
- understand that your work, that the whirl of the world may have
- kept you from care for your salvation. But now is the time to
- reflect. Yet don't despair. I have known great sinners, who,
- about to appear before God (you are not yet at this point I
- know), had implored His mercy, and who certainly died in the best
- frame of mind. Let us hope that, like them, you will set us a
- good example. Thus, as a precaution, what is to prevent you from
- saying morning and evening a 'Hail Mary, full of grace,' and 'Our
- Father which art in heaven'? Yes, do that, for my sake, to oblige
- me. That won't cost you anything. Will you promise me?&quot;</p>
-<p>The poor devil promised. The cure came back day after day. He
- chatted with the landlady; and even told anecdotes interspersed
- with jokes and puns that Hippolyte did not understand. Then, as
- soon as he could, he fell back upon matters of religion, putting
- on an appropriate expression of face.</p>
-<p>His zeal seemed successful, for the club-foot soon manifested a
- desire to go on a pilgrimage to Bon-Secours if he were cured; to
- which Monsieur Bournisien replied that he saw no objection; two
- precautions were better than one; it was no risk anyhow.</p>
-<p>The druggist was indignant at what he called the manoeuvres of
- the priest; they were prejudicial, he said, to Hippolyte's
- convalescence, and he kept repeating to Madame Lefrancois, &quot;Leave
- him alone! leave him alone! You perturb his morals with your
- mysticism.&quot; But the good woman would no longer listen to him; he
- was the cause of it all. From a spirit of contradiction she hung
- up near the bedside of the patient a basin filled with holy-water
- and a branch of box.</p>
-<p>Religion, however, seemed no more able to succour him than
- surgery, and the invincible gangrene still spread from the
- extremities towards the stomach. It was all very well to vary the
- potions and change the poultices; the muscles each day rotted
- more and more; and at last Charles replied by an affirmative nod
- of the head when Mere Lefrancois, asked him if she could not, as
- a forlorn hope, send for Monsieur Canivet of Neufchatel, who was
- a celebrity.</p>
-<p>A doctor of medicine, fifty years of age, enjoying a good
- position and self-possessed, Charles's colleague did not refrain
- from laughing disdainfully when he had uncovered the leg,
- mortified to the knee. Then having flatly declared that it must
- be amputated, he went off to the chemist's to rail at the asses
- who could have reduced a poor man to such a state. Shaking
- Monsieur Homais by the button of his coat, he shouted out in the
- shop--</p>
-<p>&quot;These are the inventions of Paris! These are the ideas of those
- gentry of the capital! It is like strabismus, chloroform,
- lithotrity, a heap of monstrosities that the Government ought to
- prohibit. But they want to do the clever, and they cram you with
- remedies without, troubling about the consequences. We are not so
- clever, not we! We are not savants, coxcombs, fops! We are
- practitioners; we cure people, and we should not dream of
- operating on anyone who is in perfect health. Straighten club-
- feet! As if one could straighten club-feet! It is as if one
- wished, for example, to make a hunchback straight!&quot;</p>
-<p>Homais suffered as he listened to this discourse, and he
- concealed his discomfort beneath a courtier's smile; for he
- needed to humour Monsier Canivet, whose prescriptions sometimes
- came as far as Yonville. So he did not take up the defence of
- Bovary; he did not even make a single remark, and, renouncing his
- principles, he sacrificed his dignity to the more serious
- interests of his business.</p>
-<p>This amputation of the thigh by Doctor Canivet was a great event
- in the village. On that day all the inhabitants got up earlier,
- and the Grande Rue, although full of people, had something
- lugubrious about it, as if an execution had been expected. At the
- grocer's they discussed Hippolyte's illness; the shops did no
- business, and Madame Tuvache, the mayor's wife, did not stir from
- her window, such was her impatience to see the operator arrive.</p>
-<p>He came in his gig, which he drove himself. But the springs of
- the right side having at length given way beneath the weight of
- his corpulence, it happened that the carriage as it rolled along
- leaned over a little, and on the other cushion near him could be
- seen a large box covered in red sheep-leather, whose three brass
- clasps shone grandly.</p>
-<p>After he had entered like a whirlwind the porch of the &quot;Lion
- d'Or,&quot; the doctor, shouting very loud, ordered them to unharness
- his horse. Then he went into the stable to see that he was eating
- his oats all right; for on arriving at a patient's he first of
- all looked after his mare and his gig. People even said about
- this--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! Monsieur Canivet's a character!&quot;</p>
-<p>And he was the more esteemed for this imperturbable coolness. The
- universe to the last man might have died, and he would not have
- missed the smallest of his habits.</p>
-<p>Homais presented himself.</p>
-<p>&quot;I count on you,&quot; said the doctor. &quot;Are we ready? Come along!&quot;</p>
-<p>But the druggist, turning red, confessed that he was too
- sensitive to assist at such an operation.</p>
-<p>&quot;When one is a simple spectator,&quot; he said, &quot;the imagination,
- you
- know, is impressed. And then I have such a nervous system!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Pshaw!&quot; interrupted Canivet; &quot;on the contrary, you seem to
- me
- inclined to apoplexy. Besides, that doesn't astonish me, for you
- chemist fellows are always poking about your kitchens, which must
- end by spoiling your constitutions. Now just look at me. I get up
- every day at four o'clock; I shave with cold water (and am never
- cold). I don't wear flannels, and I never catch cold; my carcass
- is good enough! I live now in one way, now in another, like a
- philosopher, taking pot-luck; that is why I am not squeamish like
- you, and it is as indifferent to me to carve a Christian as the
- first fowl that turns up. Then, perhaps, you will say, habit!
- habit!&quot;</p>
-<p>Then, without any consideration for Hippolyte, who was sweating
- with agony between his sheets, these gentlemen entered into a
- conversation, in which the druggist compared the coolness of a
- surgeon to that of a general; and this comparison was pleasing to
- Canivet, who launched out on the exigencies of his art. He looked
- upon, it as a sacred office, although the ordinary practitioners
- dishonoured it. At last, coming back to the patient, he examined
- the bandages brought by Homais, the same that had appeared for
- the club-foot, and asked for someone to hold the limb for him.
- Lestiboudois was sent for, and Monsieur Canivet having turned up
- his sleeves, passed into the billiard-room, while the druggist
- stayed with Artemise and the landlady, both whiter than their
- aprons, and with ears strained towards the door.</p>
-<p>Bovary during this time did not dare to stir from his house.</p>
-<p>He kept downstairs in the sitting-room by the side of the
- fireless chimney, his chin on his breast, his hands clasped, his
- eyes staring. &quot;What a mishap!&quot; he thought, &quot;what a mishap!&quot;
- Perhaps, after all, he had made some slip. He thought it over,
- but could hit upon nothing. But the most famous surgeons also
- made mistakes; and that is what no one would ever believe!
- People, on the contrary, would laugh, jeer! It would spread as
- far as Forges, as Neufchatel, as Rouen, everywhere! Who could say
- if his colleagues would not write against him. Polemics would
- ensue; he would have to answer in the papers. Hippolyte might
- even prosecute him. He saw himself dishonoured, ruined, lost; and
- his imagination, assailed by a world of hypotheses, tossed
- amongst them like an empty cask borne by the sea and floating
- upon the waves.</p>
-<p>Emma, opposite, watched him; she did not share his humiliation;
- she felt another--that of having supposed such a man was worth
- anything. As if twenty times already she had not sufficiently
- perceived his mediocrity.</p>
-<p>Charles was walking up and down the room; his boots creaked on
- the floor.</p>
-<p>&quot;Sit down,&quot; she said; &quot;you fidget me.&quot;</p>
-<p>He sat down again.</p>
-<p>How was it that she--she, who was so intelligent--could have
- allowed herself to be deceived again? and through what deplorable
- madness had she thus ruined her life by continual sacrifices? She
- recalled all her instincts of luxury, all the privations of her
- soul, the sordidness of marriage, of the household, her dream
- sinking into the mire like wounded swallows; all that she had
- longed for, all that she had denied herself, all that she might
- have had! And for what? for what?</p>
-<p>In the midst of the silence that hung over the village a
- heart-rending cry rose on the air. Bovary turned white to
- fainting. She knit her brows with a nervous gesture, then went
- on. And it was for him, for this creature, for this man, who
- understood nothing, who felt nothing! For he was there quite
- quiet, not even suspecting that the ridicule of his name would
- henceforth sully hers as well as his. She had made efforts to
- love him, and she had repented with tears for having yielded to
- another!</p>
-<p>&quot;But it was perhaps a valgus!&quot; suddenly exclaimed Bovary, who was
- meditating.</p>
-<p>At the unexpected shock of this phrase falling on her thought
- like a leaden bullet on a silver plate, Emma, shuddering, raised
- her head in order to find out what he meant to say; and they
- looked at the other in silence, almost amazed to see each other,
- so far sundered were they by their inner thoughts. Charles gazed
- at her with the dull look of a drunken man, while he listened
- motionless to the last cries of the sufferer, that followed each
- other in long-drawn modulations, broken by sharp spasms like the
- far-off howling of some beast being slaughtered. Emma bit her wan
- lips, and rolling between her fingers a piece of coral that she
- had broken, fixed on Charles the burning glance of her eyes like
- two arrows of fire about to dart forth. Everything in him
- irritated her now; his face, his dress, what he did not say, his
- whole person, his existence, in fine. She repented of her past
- virtue as of a crime, and what still remained of it rumbled away
- beneath the furious blows of her pride. She revelled in all the
- evil ironies of triumphant adultery. The memory of her lover came
- back to her with dazzling attractions; she threw her whole soul
- into it, borne away towards this image with a fresh enthusiasm;
- and Charles seemed to her as much removed from her life, as
- absent forever, as impossible and annihilated, as if he had been
- about to die and were passing under her eyes.</p>
-<p>There was a sound of steps on the pavement. Charles looked up,
- and through the lowered blinds he saw at the corner of the market
- in the broad sunshine Dr. Canivet, who was wiping his brow with
- his handkerchief. Homais, behind him, was carrying a large red
- box in his hand, and both were going towards the chemist's.</p>
-<p>Then with a feeling of sudden tenderness and discouragement
- Charles turned to his wife saying to her--</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, kiss me, my own!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Leave me!&quot; she said, red with anger.</p>
-<p>&quot;What is the matter?&quot; he asked, stupefied. &quot;Be calm; compose
- yourself. You know well enough that I love you. Come!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Enough!&quot; she cried with a terrible look.</p>
-<p>And escaping from the room, Emma closed the door so violently
- that the barometer fell from the wall and smashed on the floor.</p>
-<p>Charles sank back into his arm-chair overwhelmed, trying to
- discover what could be wrong with her, fancying some nervous
- illness, weeping, and vaguely feeling something fatal and
- incomprehensible whirling round him.</p>
-<p>When Rodolphe came to the garden that evening, he found his mistress waiting
- for him at the foot of the steps on the lowest stair. They threw their arms
- round one another, and all their rancour melted like snow beneath the warmth
- of that kiss.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Twelve</h3>
-<p>They began to love one another again. Often, even in the middle of the day,
- Emma suddenly wrote to him, then from the window made a sign to Justin, who,
- taking his apron off, quickly ran to La Huchette. Rodolphe would come; she had
- sent for him to tell him that she was bored, that her husband was odious, her
- life frightful. </p>
-<p>&quot;But what can I do?&quot; he cried one day impatiently.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! if you would--&quot;</p>
-<p>She was sitting on the floor between his knees, her hair loose,
- her look lost.</p>
-<p>&quot;Why, what?&quot; said Rodolphe.</p>
-<p>She sighed.</p>
-<p>&quot;We would go and live elsewhere--somewhere!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;You are really mad!&quot; he said laughing. &quot;How could that be
- possible?&quot;</p>
-<p>She returned to the subject; he pretended not to understand, and
- turned the conversation.</p>
-<p>What he did not understand was all this worry about so simple an
- affair as love. She had a motive, a reason, and, as it were, a
- pendant to her affection.</p>
-<p>Her tenderness, in fact, grew each day with her repulsion to her
- husband. The more she gave up herself to the one, the more she
- loathed the other. Never had Charles seemed to her so
- disagreeable, to have such stodgy fingers, such vulgar ways, to
- be so dull as when they found themselves together after her
- meeting with Rodolphe. Then, while playing the spouse and virtue,
- she was burning at the thought of that head whose black hair fell
- in a curl over the sunburnt brow, of that form at once so strong
- and elegant, of that man, in a word, who had such experience in
- his reasoning, such passion in his desires. It was for him that
- she filed her nails with the care of a chaser, and that there was
- never enough cold-cream for her skin, nor of patchouli for her
- handkerchiefs. She loaded herself with bracelets, rings, and
- necklaces. When he was coming she filled the two large blue glass
- vases with roses, and prepared her room and her person like a
- courtesan expecting a prince. The servant had to be constantly
- washing linen, and all day Felicite did not stir from the
- kitchen, where little Justin, who often kept her company, watched
- her at work.</p>
-<p>With his elbows on the long board on which she was ironing, he
- greedily watched all these women's clothes spread about him, the
- dimity petticoats, the fichus, the collars, and the drawers with
- running strings, wide at the hips and growing narrower below.</p>
-<p>&quot;What is that for?&quot; asked the young fellow, passing his hand over
- the crinoline or the hooks and eyes.</p>
-<p>&quot;Why, haven't you ever seen anything?&quot; Felicite answered
- laughing. &quot;As if your mistress, Madame Homais, didn't wear the
- same.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, I daresay! Madame Homais!&quot; And he added with a meditative
- air, &quot;As if she were a lady like madame!&quot;</p>
-<p>But Felicite grew impatient of seeing him hanging round her. She
- was six years older than he, and Theodore, Monsieur Guillaumin's
- servant, was beginning to pay court to her.</p>
-<p>&quot;Let me alone,&quot; she said, moving her pot of starch. &quot;You'd better
- be off and pound almonds; you are always dangling about women.
- Before you meddle with such things, bad boy, wait till you've got
- a beard to your chin.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, don't be cross! I'll go and clean her boots.&quot;</p>
-<p>And he at once took down from the shelf Emma's boots, all coated
- with mud, the mud of the rendezvous, that crumbled into powder
- beneath his fingers, and that he watched as it gently rose in a
- ray of sunlight.</p>
-<p>&quot;How afraid you are of spoiling them!&quot; said the servant, who
- wasn't so particular when she cleaned them herself, because as
- soon as the stuff of the boots was no longer fresh madame handed
- them over to her.</p>
-<p>Emma had a number in her cupboard that she squandered one after
- the other, without Charles allowing himself the slightest
- observation. So also he disbursed three hundred francs for a
- wooden leg that she thought proper to make a present of to
- Hippolyte. Its top was covered with cork, and it had spring
- joints, a complicated mechanism, covered over by black trousers
- ending in a patent-leather boot. But Hippolyte, not daring to use
- such a handsome leg every day, begged Madame Bovary to get him
- another more convenient one. The doctor, of course, had again to
- defray the expense of this purchase.</p>
-<p>So little by little the stable-man took up his work again. One
- saw him running about the village as before, and when Charles
- heard from afar the sharp noise of the wooden leg, he at once
- went in another direction.</p>
-<p>It was Monsieur Lheureux, the shopkeeper, who had undertaken the
- order; this provided him with an excuse for visiting Emma. He
- chatted with her about the new goods from Paris, about a thousand
- feminine trifles, made himself very obliging, and never asked for
- his money. Emma yielded to this lazy mode of satisfying all her
- caprices. Thus she wanted to have a very handsome ridding-whip
- that was at an umbrella-maker's at Rouen to give to Rodolphe. The
- week after Monsieur Lheureux placed it on her table.</p>
-<p>But the next day he called on her with a bill for two hundred and
- seventy francs, not counting the centimes. Emma was much
- embarrassed; all the drawers of the writing-table were empty;
- they owed over a fortnight's wages to Lestiboudois, two quarters
- to the servant, for any quantity of other things, and Bovary was
- impatiently expecting Monsieur Derozeray's account, which he was
- in the habit of paying every year about Midsummer.</p>
-<p>She succeeded at first in putting off Lheureux. At last he lost
- patience; he was being sued; his capital was out, and unless he
- got some in he should be forced to take back all the goods she
- had received.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, very well, take them!&quot; said Emma.</p>
-<p>&quot;I was only joking,&quot; he replied; &quot;the only thing I regret is
- the
- whip. My word! I'll ask monsieur to return it to me.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No, no!&quot; she said.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! I've got you!&quot; thought Lheureux.</p>
-<p>And, certain of his discovery, he went out repeating to himself
- in an undertone, and with his usual low whistle--</p>
-<p>&quot;Good! we shall see! we shall see!&quot;</p>
-<p>She was thinking how to get out of this when the servant coming
- in put on the mantelpiece a small roll of blue paper &quot;from
- Monsieur Derozeray's.&quot; Emma pounced upon and opened it. It
- contained fifteen napoleons; it was the account. She heard
- Charles on the stairs; threw the gold to the back of her drawer,
- and took out the key.</p>
-<p>Three days after Lheureux reappeared.</p>
-<p>&quot;I have an arrangement to suggest to you,&quot; he said. &quot;If, instead
- of the sum agreed on, you would take--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Here it is,&quot; she said placing fourteen napoleons in his hand.</p>
-<p>The tradesman was dumfounded. Then, to conceal his
- disappointment, he was profuse in apologies and proffers of
- service, all of which Emma declined; then she remained a few
- moments fingering in the pocket of her apron the two five-franc
- pieces that he had given her in change. She promised herself she
- would economise in order to pay back later on. &quot;Pshaw!&quot; she
- thought, &quot;he won't think about it again.&quot;</p>
-<p>Besides the riding-whip with its silver-gilt handle, Rodolphe had
- received a seal with the motto Amor nel cor* furthermore, a scarf
- for a muffler, and, finally, a cigar-case exactly like the
- Viscount's, that Charles had formerly picked up in the road, and
- that Emma had kept. These presents, however, humiliated him; he
- refused several; she insisted, and he ended by obeying, thinking
- her tyrannical and overexacting.</p>
-<p>*A loving heart.</p>
-<p>Then she had strange ideas.</p>
-<p>&quot;When midnight strikes,&quot; she said, &quot;you must think of me.&quot;</p>
-<p>And if he confessed that he had not thought of her, there were
- floods of reproaches that always ended with the eternal question--</p>
-<p>&quot;Do you love me?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why, of course I love you,&quot; he answered.</p>
-<p>&quot;A great deal?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Certainly!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;You haven't loved any others?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Did you think you'd got a virgin?&quot; he exclaimed laughing.</p>
-<p>Emma cried, and he tried to console her, adorning his
- protestations with puns.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; she went on, &quot;I love you! I love you so that I could not
- live without you, do you see? There are times when I long to see
- you again, when I am torn by all the anger of love. I ask myself,
- Where is he? Perhaps he is talking to other women. They smile
- upon him; he approaches. Oh no; no one else pleases you. There
- are some more beautiful, but I love you best. I know how to love
- best. I am your servant, your concubine! You are my king, my
- idol! You are good, you are beautiful, you are clever, you are
- strong!&quot;</p>
-<p>He had so often heard these things said that they did not strike
- him as original. Emma was like all his mistresses; and the charm
- of novelty, gradually falling away like a garment, laid bare the
- eternal monotony of passion, that has always the same forms and
- the same language. He did not distinguish, this man of so much
- experience, the difference of sentiment beneath the sameness of
- expression. Because lips libertine and venal had murmured such
- words to him, he believed but little in the candour of hers;
- exaggerated speeches hiding mediocre affections must be
- discounted; as if the fullness of the soul did not sometimes
- overflow in the emptiest metaphors, since no one can ever give
- the exact measure of his needs, nor of his conceptions, nor of
- his sorrows; and since human speech is like a cracked tin kettle,
- on which we hammer out tunes to make bears dance when we long to
- move the stars.</p>
-<p>But with that superior critical judgment that belongs to him who,
- in no matter what circumstance, holds back, Rodolphe saw other
- delights to be got out of this love. He thought all modesty in
- the way. He treated her quite sans facon.* He made of her
- something supple and corrupt. Hers was an idiotic sort of
- attachment, full of admiration for him, of voluptuousness for
- her, a beatitude that benumbed her; her soul sank into this
- drunkenness, shrivelled up, drowned in it, like Clarence in his
- butt of Malmsey.</p>
-<p>*Off-handedly.</p>
-<p>
- By the mere effect of her love Madame Bovary's manners changed.
- Her looks grew bolder, her speech more free; she even committed
- the impropriety of walking out with Monsieur Rodolphe, a
- cigarette in her mouth, &quot;as if to defy the people.&quot; At last,
- those who still doubted doubted no longer when one day they saw
- her getting out of the &quot;Hirondelle,&quot; her waist squeezed into a
- waistcoat like a man; and Madame Bovary senior, who, after a
- fearful scene with her husband, had taken refuge at her son's,
- was not the least scandalised of the women-folk. Many other
- things displeased her. First, Charles had not attended to her
- advice about the forbidding of novels; then the &quot;ways of the
- house&quot; annoyed her; she allowed herself to make some remarks, and
- there were quarrels, especially one on account of Felicite.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary senior, the evening before, passing along the
- passage, had surprised her in company of a man--a man with a
- brown collar, about forty years old, who, at the sound of her
- step, had quickly escaped through the kitchen. Then Emma began to
- laugh, but the good lady grew angry, declaring that unless morals
- were to be laughed at one ought to look after those of one's
- servants.</p>
-<p>&quot;Where were you brought up?&quot; asked the daughter-in-law, with so
- impertinent a look that Madame Bovary asked her if she were not
- perhaps defending her own case.</p>
-<p>&quot;Leave the room!&quot; said the young woman, springing up with a
- bound.</p>
-<p>&quot;Emma! Mamma!&quot; cried Charles, trying to reconcile them.</p>
-<p>But both had fled in their exasperation. Emma was stamping her
- feet as she repeated--</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh! what manners! What a peasant!&quot;</p>
-<p>He ran to his mother; she was beside herself. She stammered</p>
-<p>&quot;She is an insolent, giddy-headed thing, or perhaps worse!&quot;</p>
-<p>And she was for leaving at once if the other did not apologise.
- So Charles went back again to his wife and implored her to give
- way; he knelt to her; she ended by saying--</p>
-<p>&quot;Very well! I'll go to her.&quot;</p>
-<p>And in fact she held out her hand to her mother-in-law with the
- dignity of a marchioness as she said--</p>
-<p>&quot;Excuse me, madame.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then, having gone up again to her room, she threw herself flat on
- her bed and cried there like a child, her face buried in the
- pillow.</p>
-<p>She and Rodolphe had agreed that in the event of anything
- extraordinary occurring, she should fasten a small piece of white
- paper to the blind, so that if by chance he happened to be in
- Yonville, he could hurry to the lane behind the house. Emma made
- the signal; she had been waiting three-quarters of an hour when
- she suddenly caught sight of Rodolphe at the corner of the
- market. She felt tempted to open the window and call him, but he
- had already disappeared. She fell back in despair.</p>
-<p>Soon, however, it seemed to her that someone was walking on the
- pavement. It was he, no doubt. She went downstairs, crossed the
- yard. He was there outside. She threw herself into his arms.</p>
-<p>&quot;Do take care!&quot; he said.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! if you knew!&quot; she replied.</p>
-<p>And she began telling him everything, hurriedly, disjointedly,
- exaggerating the facts, inventing many, and so prodigal of
- parentheses that he understood nothing of it.</p>
-<p>&quot;Come, my poor angel, courage! Be comforted! be patient!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But I have been patient; I have suffered for four years. A love
- like ours ought to show itself in the face of heaven. They
- torture me! I can bear it no longer! Save me!&quot;</p>
-<p>She clung to Rodolphe. Her eyes, full of tears, flashed like
- flames beneath a wave; her breast heaved; he had never loved her
- so much, so that he lost his head and said &quot;What is, it? What do
- you wish?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Take me away,&quot; she cried, &quot;carry me off! Oh, I pray you!&quot;</p>
-<p>And she threw herself upon his mouth, as if to seize there the
- unexpected consent if breathed forth in a kiss.</p>
-<p>&quot;But--&quot; Rodolphe resumed.</p>
-<p>&quot;What?&quot;
-
- &quot;Your little girl!&quot;
- She reflected a few moments, then replied--</p>
-<p>&quot;We will take her! It can't be helped!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What a woman!&quot; he said to himself, watching her as she went. For
- she had run into the garden. Someone was calling her.</p>
-<p>On the following days Madame Bovary senior was much surprised at
- the change in her daughter-in-law. Emma, in fact, was showing
- herself more docile, and even carried her deference so far as to
- ask for a recipe for pickling gherkins.</p>
-<p>Was it the better to deceive them both? Or did she wish by a sort
- of voluptuous stoicism to feel the more profoundly the bitterness
- of the things she was about to leave?</p>
-<p>But she paid no heed to them; on the contrary, she lived as lost
- in the anticipated delight of her coming happiness.</p>
-<p>It was an eternal subject for conversation with Rodolphe. She
- leant on his shoulder murmuring--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! when we are in the mail-coach! Do you think about it? Can it
- be? It seems to me that the moment I feel the carriage start, it
- will be as if we were rising in a balloon, as if we were setting
- out for the clouds. Do you know that I count the hours? And you?&quot;</p>
-<p>Never had Madame Bovary been so beautiful as at this period; she
- had that indefinable beauty that results from joy, from
- enthusiasm, from success, and that is only the harmony of
- temperament with circumstances. Her desires, her sorrows, the
- experience of pleasure, and her ever-young illusions, that had,
- as soil and rain and winds and the sun make flowers grow,
- gradually developed her, and she at length blossomed forth in all
- the plenitude of her nature. Her eyelids seemed chiselled
- expressly for her long amorous looks in which the pupil
- disappeared, while a strong inspiration expanded her delicate
- nostrils and raised the fleshy corner of her lips, shaded in the
- light by a little black down. One would have thought that an
- artist apt in conception had arranged the curls of hair upon her
- neck; they fell in a thick mass, negligently, and with the
- changing chances of their adultery, that unbound them every day.
- Her voice now took more mellow infections, her figure also;
- something subtle and penetrating escaped even from the folds of
- her gown and from the line of her foot. Charles, as when they
- were first married, thought her delicious and quite irresistible.</p>
-<p>When he came home in the middle of the night, he did not dare to
- wake her. The porcelain night-light threw a round trembling gleam
- upon the ceiling, and the drawn curtains of the little cot formed
- as it were a white hut standing out in the shade, and by the
- bedside Charles looked at them. He seemed to hear the light
- breathing of his child. She would grow big now; every season
- would bring rapid progress. He already saw her coming from school
- as the day drew in, laughing, with ink-stains on her jacket, and
- carrying her basket on her arm. Then she would have to be sent to
- the boarding-school; that would cost much; how was it to be done?
- Then he reflected. He thought of hiring a small farm in the
- neighbourhood, that he would superintend every morning on his way
- to his patients. He would save up what he brought in; he would
- put it in the savings-bank. Then he would buy shares somewhere,
- no matter where; besides, his practice would increase; he counted
- upon that, for he wanted Berthe to be well-educated, to be
- accomplished, to learn to play the piano. Ah! how pretty she
- would be later on when she was fifteen, when, resembling her
- mother, she would, like her, wear large straw hats in the
- summer-time; from a distance they would be taken for two sisters.
- He pictured her to himself working in the evening by their side
- beneath the light of the lamp; she would embroider him slippers;
- she would look after the house; she would fill all the home with
- her charm and her gaiety. At last, they would think of her
- marriage; they would find her some good young fellow with a
- steady business; he would make her happy; this would last for
- ever.</p>
-<p>Emma was not asleep; she pretended to be; and while he dozed off
- by her side she awakened to other dreams.</p>
-<p>To the gallop of four horses she was carried away for a week
- towards a new land, whence they would return no more. They went
- on and on, their arms entwined, without a word. Often from the
- top of a mountain there suddenly glimpsed some splendid city with
- domes, and bridges, and ships, forests of citron trees, and
- cathedrals of white marble, on whose pointed steeples were
- storks' nests. They went at a walking-pace because of the great
- flag-stones, and on the ground there were bouquets of flowers,
- offered you by women dressed in red bodices. They heard the
- chiming of bells, the neighing of mules, together with the murmur
- of guitars and the noise of fountains, whose rising spray
- refreshed heaps of fruit arranged like a pyramid at the foot of
- pale statues that smiled beneath playing waters. And then, one
- night they came to a fishing village, where brown nets were
- drying in the wind along the cliffs and in front of the huts. It
- was there that they would stay; they would live in a low,
- flat-roofed house, shaded by a palm-tree, in the heart of a gulf,
- by the sea. They would row in gondolas, swing in hammocks, and
- their existence would be easy and large as their silk gowns, warm
- and star-spangled as the nights they would contemplate. However,
- in the immensity of this future that she conjured up, nothing
- special stood forth; the days, all magnificent, resembled
- each other like waves; and it swayed in the horizon, infinite,
- harmonised, azure, and bathed in sunshine. But the child began to
- cough in her cot or Bovary snored more loudly, and Emma did not
- fall asleep till morning, when the dawn whitened the windows, and
- when little Justin was already in the square taking down the
- shutters of the chemist's shop.</p>
-<p>She had sent for Monsieur Lheureux, and had said to him--</p>
-<p>&quot;I want a cloak--a large lined cloak with a deep collar.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;You are going on a journey?&quot; he asked.</p>
-<p>&quot;No; but--never mind. I may count on you, may I not, and
- quickly?&quot;</p>
-<p>He bowed.</p>
-<p>&quot;Besides, I shall want,&quot; she went on, &quot;a trunk--not too heavy--
- handy.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, yes, I understand. About three feet by a foot and a half,
- as they are being made just now.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;And a travelling bag.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Decidedly,&quot; thought Lheureux. &quot;there's a row on here.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;And,&quot; said Madame Bovary, taking her watch from her belt, &quot;take
- this; you can pay yourself out of it.&quot;</p>
-<p>But the tradesman cried out that she was wrong; they knew one
- another; did he doubt her? What childishness!</p>
-<p>She insisted, however, on his taking at least the chain, and
- Lheureux had already put it in his pocket and was going, when she
- called him back.</p>
-<p>&quot;You will leave everything at your place. As to the cloak&quot;--she
- seemed to be reflecting--&quot;do not bring it either; you can give me
- the maker's address, and tell him to have it ready for me.&quot;</p>
-<p>It was the next month that they were to run away. She was to
- leave Yonville as if she was going on some business to Rouen.
- Rodolphe would have booked the seats, procured the passports, and
- even have written to Paris in order to have the whole mail-coach
- reserved for them as far as Marseilles, where they would buy a
- carriage, and go on thence without stopping to Genoa. She would
- take care to send her luggage to Lheureux whence it would be
- taken direct to the &quot;Hirondelle,&quot; so that no one would have any
- suspicion. And in all this there never was any allusion to the
- child. Rodolphe avoided speaking of her; perhaps he no longer
- thought about it.</p>
-<p>He wished to have two more weeks before him to arrange some
- affairs; then at the end of a week he wanted two more; then he
- said he was ill; next he went on a journey. The month of August
- passed, and, after all these delays, they decided that it was to
- be irrevocably fixed for the 4th September--a Monday.</p>
-<p>At length the Saturday before arrived.</p>
-<p>Rodolphe came in the evening earlier than usual.</p>
-<p>&quot;Everything is ready?&quot; she asked him.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then they walked round a garden-bed, and went to sit down near
- the terrace on the kerb-stone of the wall.</p>
-<p>&quot;You are sad,&quot; said Emma.</p>
-<p>&quot;No; why?&quot;</p>
-<p>And yet he looked at her strangely in a tender fashion.</p>
-<p>&quot;It is because you are going away?&quot; she went on; &quot;because you
- are
- leaving what is dear to you--your life? Ah! I understand. I have
- nothing in the world! you are all to me; so shall I be to you. I
- will be your people, your country; I will tend, I will love you!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;How sweet you are!&quot; he said, seizing her in his arms.</p>
-<p>&quot;Really!&quot; she said with a voluptuous laugh. &quot;Do you love me?
- Swear it then!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Do I love you--love you? I adore you, my love.&quot;</p>
-<p>The moon, full and purple-coloured, was rising right out of the
- earth at the end of the meadow. She rose quickly between the
- branches of the poplars, that hid her here and there like a black
- curtain pierced with holes. Then she appeared dazzling with
- whiteness in the empty heavens that she lit up, and now sailing
- more slowly along, let fall upon the river a great stain that
- broke up into an infinity of stars; and the silver sheen seemed
- to writhe through the very depths like a heedless serpent covered
- with luminous scales; it also resembled some monster candelabra
- all along which sparkled drops of diamonds running together. The
- soft night was about them; masses of shadow filled the branches.
- Emma, her eyes half closed, breathed in with deep sighs the fresh
- wind that was blowing. They did not speak, lost as they were in
- the rush of their reverie. The tenderness of the old days came
- back to their hearts, full and silent as the flowing river, with
- the softness of the perfume of the syringas, and threw across
- their memories shadows more immense and more sombre than those of
- the still willows that lengthened out over the grass. Often some
- night-animal, hedgehog or weasel, setting out on the hunt,
- disturbed the lovers, or sometimes they heard a ripe peach
- falling all alone from the espalier.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! what a lovely night!&quot; said Rodolphe.</p>
-<p>&quot;We shall have others,&quot; replied Emma; and, as if speaking to
- herself: &quot;Yet, it will be good to travel. And yet, why should my
- heart be so heavy? Is it dread of the unknown? The effect of
- habits left? Or rather--? No; it is the excess of happiness. How
- weak I am, am I not? Forgive me!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;There is still time!&quot; he cried. &quot;Reflect! perhaps you may
- repent!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Never!&quot; she cried impetuously. And coming closer to him: &quot;What
- ill could come to me? There is no desert, no precipice, no ocean
- I would not traverse with you. The longer we live together the
- more it will be like an embrace, every day closer, more heart to
- heart. There will be nothing to trouble us, no cares, no
- obstacle. We shall be alone, all to ourselves eternally. Oh,
- speak! Answer me!&quot;</p>
-<p>At regular intervals he answered, &quot;Yes--Yes--&quot; She had passed her
- hands through his hair, and she repeated in a childlike voice,
- despite the big tears which were falling, &quot;Rodolphe! Rodolphe!
- Ah! Rodolphe! dear little Rodolphe!&quot;</p>
-<p>Midnight struck.</p>
-<p>&quot;Midnight!&quot; said she. &quot;Come, it is to-morrow. One day more!&quot;</p>
-<p>He rose to go; and as if the movement he made had been the signal
- for their flight, Emma said, suddenly assuming a gay air--</p>
-<p>&quot;You have the passports?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;You are forgetting nothing?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Are you sure?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Certainly.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;It is at the Hotel de Provence, is it not, that you will wait
- for me at midday?&quot;</p>
-<p>He nodded.</p>
-<p>&quot;Till to-morrow then!&quot; said Emma in a last caress; and she
- watched him go.</p>
-<p>He did not turn round. She ran after him, and, leaning over the
- water's edge between the bulrushes</p>
-<p>&quot;To-morrow!&quot; she cried.</p>
-<p>He was already on the other side of the river and walking fast
- across the meadow.</p>
-<p>After a few moments Rodolphe stopped; and when he saw her with
- her white gown gradually fade away in the shade like a ghost, he
- was seized with such a beating of the heart that he leant against
- a tree lest he should fall.</p>
-<p>&quot;What an imbecile I am!&quot; he said with a fearful oath. &quot;No matter!
- She was a pretty mistress!&quot;</p>
-<p>And immediately Emma's beauty, with all the pleasures of their
- love, came back to him. For a moment he softened; then he
- rebelled against her.</p>
-<p>&quot;For, after all,&quot; he exclaimed, gesticulating, &quot;I can't exile
- myself--have a child on my hands.&quot;</p>
-<p>He was saying these things to give himself firmness.</p>
-<p>&quot;And besides, the worry, the expense! Ah! no, no, no, no! a thousand times
- no! That would be too stupid.&quot;</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Thirteen</h3>
-<p>No sooner was Rodolphe at home than he sat down quickly at his bureau under
- the stag's head that hung as a trophy on the wall. But when he had the pen between
- his fingers, he could think of nothing, so that, resting on his elbows, he began
- to reflect. Emma seemed to him to have receded into a far-off past, as if the
- resolution he had taken had suddenly placed a distance between them.</p>
-<p>To get back something of her, he fetched from the cupboard at the
- bedside an old Rheims biscuit-box, in which he usually kept his
- letters from women, and from it came an odour of dry dust and
- withered roses. First he saw a handkerchief with pale little
- spots. It was a handkerchief of hers. Once when they were walking
- her nose had bled; he had forgotten it. Near it, chipped at all
- the corners, was a miniature given him by Emma: her toilette
- seemed to him pretentious, and her languishing look in the worst
- possible taste. Then, from looking at this image and recalling
- the memory of its original, Emma's features little by little grew
- confused in his remembrance, as if the living and the painted
- face, rubbing one against the other, had effaced each other.
- Finally, he read some of her letters; they were full of
- explanations relating to their journey, short, technical, and
- urgent, like business notes. He wanted to see the long ones
- again, those of old times. In order to find them at the bottom of
- the box, Rodolphe disturbed all the others, and mechanically
- began rummaging amidst this mass of papers and things, finding
- pell-mell bouquets, garters, a black mask, pins, and hair--hair!
- dark and fair, some even, catching in the hinges of the box,
- broke when it was opened.</p>
-<p>Thus dallying with his souvenirs, he examined the writing and the
- style of the letters, as varied as their orthography. They were
- tender or jovial, facetious, melancholy; there were some that
- asked for love, others that asked for money. A word recalled
- faces to him, certain gestures, the sound of a voice; sometimes,
- however, he remembered nothing at all.</p>
-<p>In fact, these women, rushing at once into his thoughts, cramped
- each other and lessened, as reduced to a uniform level of love
- that equalised them all. So taking handfuls of the mixed-up
- letters, he amused himself for some moments with letting them
- fall in cascades from his right into his left hand. At last,
- bored and weary, Rodolphe took back the box to the cupboard,
- saying to himself, &quot;What a lot of rubbish!&quot; Which summed up his
- opinion; for pleasures, like schoolboys in a school courtyard,
- had so trampled upon his heart that no green thing grew there,
- and that which passed through it, more heedless than children,
- did not even, like them, leave a name carved upon the wall.</p>
-<p>&quot;Come,&quot; said he, &quot;let's begin.&quot;</p>
-<p>He wrote--</p>
-<p>&quot;Courage, Emma! courage! I would not bring misery into your
- life.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;After all, that's true,&quot; thought Rodolphe. &quot;I am acting in
- her
- interest; I am honest.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Have you carefully weighed your resolution? Do you know to what
- an abyss I was dragging you, poor angel? No, you do not, do you?
- You were coming confident and fearless, believing in happiness in
- the future. Ah! unhappy that we are--insensate!&quot;</p>
-<p>Rodolphe stopped here to think of some good excuse.</p>
-<p>&quot;If I told her all my fortune is lost? No! Besides, that would
- stop nothing. It would all have to be begun over again later on.
- As if one could make women like that listen to reason!&quot; He
- reflected, then went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;I shall not forget you, oh believe it; and I shall ever have a
- profound devotion for you; but some day, sooner or later, this
- ardour (such is the fate of human things) would have grown less,
- no doubt. Lassitude would have come to us, and who knows if I
- should not even have had the atrocious pain of witnessing your
- remorse, of sharing it myself, since I should have been its
- cause? The mere idea of the grief that would come to you tortures
- me, Emma. Forget me! Why did I ever know you? Why were you so
- beautiful? Is it my fault? O my God! No, no! Accuse only fate.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;That's a word that always tells,&quot; he said to himself.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah, if you had been one of those frivolous women that one sees,
- certainly I might, through egotism, have tried an experiment, in
- that case without danger for you. But that delicious exaltation,
- at once your charm and your torment, has prevented you from
- understanding, adorable woman that you are, the falseness of our
- future position. Nor had I reflected upon this at first, and I
- rested in the shade of that ideal happiness as beneath that of
- the manchineel tree, without foreseeing the consequences.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Perhaps she'll think I'm giving it up from avarice. Ah, well! so
- much the worse; it must be stopped!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;The world is cruel, Emma. Wherever we might have gone, it would
- have persecuted us. You would have had to put up with indiscreet
- questions, calumny, contempt, insult perhaps. Insult to you! Oh!
- And I, who would place you on a throne! I who bear with me your
- memory as a talisman! For I am going to punish myself by exile
- for all the ill I have done you. I am going away. Whither I know
- not. I am mad. Adieu! Be good always. Preserve the memory of the
- unfortunate who has lost you. Teach my name to your child; let
- her repeat it in her prayers.&quot;</p>
-<p>The wicks of the candles flickered. Rodolphe got up to, shut the
- window, and when he had sat down again--</p>
-<p>&quot;I think it's all right. Ah! and this for fear she should come
- and hunt me up.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I shall be far away when you read these sad lines, for I have
- wished to flee as quickly as possible to shun the temptation of
- seeing you again. No weakness! I shall return, and perhaps later
- on we shall talk together very coldly of our old love. Adieu!&quot;</p>
-<p>And there was a last &quot;adieu&quot; divided into two words! &quot;A Dieu!&quot;
- which he thought in very excellent taste.</p>
-<p>&quot;Now how am I to sign?&quot; he said to himself. &quot; 'Yours devotedly?'
- No! 'Your friend?' Yes, that's it.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Your friend.&quot;</p>
-<p>He re-read his letter. He considered it very good.</p>
-<p>&quot;Poor little woman!&quot; he thought with emotion. &quot;She'll think
- me
- harder than a rock. There ought to have been some tears on this;
- but I can't cry; it isn't my fault.&quot; Then, having emptied some
- water into a glass, Rodolphe dipped his finger into it, and let a
- big drop fall on the paper, that made a pale stain on the ink.
- Then looking for a seal, he came upon the one &quot;Amor nel cor.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;That doesn't at all fit in with the circumstances. Pshaw! never
- mind!&quot;</p>
-<p>After which he smoked three pipes and went to bed.</p>
-<p>The next day when he was up (at about two o'clock--he had slept
- late), Rodolphe had a basket of apricots picked. He put his
- letter at the bottom under some vine leaves, and at once ordered
- Girard, his ploughman, to take it with care to Madame Bovary. He
- made use of this means for corresponding with her, sending
- according to the season fruits or game.</p>
-<p>&quot;If she asks after me,&quot; he said, &quot;you will tell her that I have
- gone on a journey. You must give the basket to her herself, into
- her own hands. Get along and take care!&quot;</p>
-<p>Girard put on his new blouse, knotted his handkerchief round the
- apricots, and walking with great heavy steps in his thick
- iron-bound galoshes, made his way to Yonville.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary, when he got to her house, was arranging a bundle
- of linen on the kitchen-table with Felicite.</p>
-<p>&quot;Here,&quot; said the ploughboy, &quot;is something for you--from the
- master.&quot;</p>
-<p>She was seized with apprehension, and as she sought in her pocket
- for some coppers, she looked at the peasant with haggard eyes,
- while he himself looked at her with amazement, not understanding
- how such a present could so move anyone. At last he went out.
- Felicite remained. She could bear it no longer; she ran into the
- sitting room as if to take the apricots there, overturned the
- basket, tore away the leaves, found the letter, opened it, and,
- as if some fearful fire were behind her, Emma flew to her room
- terrified.</p>
-<p>Charles was there; she saw him; he spoke to her; she heard
- nothing, and she went on quickly up the stairs, breathless,
- distraught, dumb, and ever holding this horrible piece of paper,
- that crackled between her fingers like a plate of sheet-iron. On
- the second floor she stopped before the attic door, which was
- closed.</p>
-<p>Then she tried to calm herself; she recalled the letter; she must
- finish it; she did not dare to. And where? How? She would be
- seen! &quot;Ah, no! here,&quot; she thought, &quot;I shall be all right.&quot;</p>
-<p>Emma pushed open the door and went in.</p>
-<p>The slates threw straight down a heavy heat that gripped her
- temples, stifled her; she dragged herself to the closed
- garret-window. She drew back the bolt, and the dazzling light
- burst in with a leap.</p>
-<p>Opposite, beyond the roofs, stretched the open country till it
- was lost to sight. Down below, underneath her, the village square
- was empty; the stones of the pavement glittered, the weathercocks
- on the houses were motionless. At the corner of the street, from
- a lower storey, rose a kind of humming with strident modulations.
- It was Binet turning.</p>
-<p>She leant against the embrasure of the window, and reread the
- letter with angry sneers. But the more she fixed her attention
- upon it, the more confused were her ideas. She saw him again,
- heard him, encircled him with her arms, and throbs of her heart,
- that beat against her breast like blows of a sledge-hammer, grew
- faster and faster, with uneven intervals. She looked about her
- with the wish that the earth might crumble into pieces. Why not
- end it all? What restrained her? She was free. She advanced,
- looking at the paving-stones, saying to herself, &quot;Come! come!&quot;</p>
-<p>The luminous ray that came straight up from below drew the weight
- of her body towards the abyss. It seemed to her that the ground
- of the oscillating square went up the walls and that the floor
- dipped on end like a tossing boat. She was right at the edge,
- almost hanging, surrounded by vast space. The blue of the heavens
- suffused her, the air was whirling in her hollow head; she had
- but to yield, to let herself be taken; and the humming of the
- lathe never ceased, like an angry voice calling her.</p>
-<p>&quot;Emma! Emma!&quot; cried Charles.</p>
-<p>She stopped.</p>
-<p>&quot;Wherever are you? Come!&quot;</p>
-<p>The thought that she had just escaped from death almost made her
- faint with terror. She closed her eyes; then she shivered at the
- touch of a hand on her sleeve; it was Felicite.</p>
-<p>&quot;Master is waiting for you, madame; the soup is on the table.&quot;</p>
-<p>And she had to go down to sit at table.</p>
-<p>She tried to eat. The food choked her. Then she unfolded her
- napkin as if to examine the darns, and she really thought of
- applying herself to this work, counting the threads in the linen.
- Suddenly the remembrance of the letter returned to her. How had
- she lost it? Where could she find it? But she felt such weariness
- of spirit that she could not even invent a pretext for leaving
- the table. Then she became a coward; she was afraid of Charles;
- he knew all, that was certain! Indeed he pronounced these words
- in a strange manner:</p>
-<p>&quot;We are not likely to see Monsieur Rodolphe soon again, it
- seems.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Who told you?&quot; she said, shuddering.</p>
-<p>&quot;Who told me!&quot; he replied, rather astonished at her abrupt tone.
- &quot;Why, Girard, whom I met just now at the door of the Cafe
- Francais. He has gone on a journey, or is to go.&quot;</p>
-<p>She gave a sob.</p>
-<p>&quot;What surprises you in that? He absents himself like that from
- time to time for a change, and, ma foi, I think he's right, when
- one has a fortune and is a bachelor. Besides, he has jolly times,
- has our friend. He's a bit of a rake. Monsieur Langlois told me--&quot;</p>
-<p>He stopped for propriety's sake because the servant came in. She
- put back into the basket the apricots scattered on the sideboard.
- Charles, without noticing his wife's colour, had them brought to
- him, took one, and bit into it.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! perfect!&quot; said he; &quot;just taste!&quot;</p>
-<p>And he handed her the basket, which she put away from her gently.</p>
-<p>&quot;Do just smell! What an odour!&quot; he remarked, passing it under her
- nose several times.</p>
-<p>&quot;I am choking,&quot; she cried, leaping up. But by an effort of will
- the spasm passed; then--</p>
-<p>&quot;It is nothing,&quot; she said, &quot;it is nothing! It is nervousness.
- Sit
- down and go on eating.&quot; For she dreaded lest he should begin
- questioning her, attending to her, that she should not be left
- alone.</p>
-<p>Charles, to obey her, sat down again, and he spat the stones of
- the apricots into his hands, afterwards putting them on his
- plate.</p>
-<p>Suddenly a blue tilbury passed across the square at a rapid trot.
- Emma uttered a cry and fell back rigid to the ground.</p>
-<p>In fact, Rodolphe, after many reflections, had decided to set out
- for Rouen. Now, as from La Huchette to Buchy there is no other
- way than by Yonville, he had to go through the village, and Emma
- had recognised him by the rays of the lanterns, which like
- lightning flashed through the twilight.</p>
-<p>The chemist, at the tumult which broke out in the house ran
- thither. The table with all the plates was upset; sauce, meat,
- knives, the salt, and cruet-stand were strewn over the room;
- Charles was calling for help; Berthe, scared, was crying; and
- Felicite, whose hands trembled, was unlacing her mistress, whose
- whole body shivered convulsively.</p>
-<p>&quot;I'll run to my laboratory for some aromatic vinegar,&quot; said the
- druggist.</p>
-<p>Then as she opened her eyes on smelling the bottle--</p>
-<p>&quot;I was sure of it,&quot; he remarked; &quot;that would wake any dead person
- for you!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Speak to us,&quot; said Charles; &quot;collect yourself; it is your
- Charles, who loves you. Do you know me? See! here is your little
- girl! Oh, kiss her!&quot;</p>
-<p>The child stretched out her arms to her mother to cling to her
- neck. But turning away her head, Emma said in a broken voice
- &quot;No, no! no one!&quot;</p>
-<p>She fainted again. They carried her to her bed. She lay there
- stretched at full length, her lips apart, her eyelids closed, her
- hands open, motionless, and white as a waxen image. Two streams
- of tears flowed from her eyes and fell slowly upon the pillow.</p>
-<p>Charles, standing up, was at the back of the alcove, and the
- chemist, near him, maintained that meditative silence that is
- becoming on the serious occasions of life.</p>
-<p>&quot;Do not be uneasy,&quot; he said, touching his elbow; &quot;I think the
- paroxysm is past.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, she is resting a little now,&quot; answered Charles, watching
- her sleep. &quot;Poor girl! poor girl! She had gone off now!&quot;</p>
-<p>Then Homais asked how the accident had come about. Charles
- answered that she had been taken ill suddenly while she was
- eating some apricots.</p>
-<p>&quot;Extraordinary!&quot; continued the chemist. &quot;But it might be that
- the
- apricots had brought on the syncope. Some natures are so
- sensitive to certain smells; and it would even be a very fine
- question to study both in its pathological and physiological
- relation. The priests know the importance of it, they who have
- introduced aromatics into all their ceremonies. It is to stupefy
- the senses and to bring on ecstasies--a thing, moreover, very
- easy in persons of the weaker sex, who are more delicate than the
- other. Some are cited who faint at the smell of burnt hartshorn,
- of new bread--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Take care; you'll wake her!&quot; said Bovary in a low voice.</p>
-<p>&quot;And not only,&quot; the druggist went on, &quot;are human beings subject
- to such anomalies, but animals also. Thus you are not ignorant of
- the singularly aphrodisiac effect produced by the Nepeta cataria,
- vulgarly called catmint, on the feline race; and, on the other
- hand, to quote an example whose authenticity I can answer for.
- Bridaux (one of my old comrades, at present established in the
- Rue Malpalu) possesses a dog that falls into convulsions as soon
- as you hold out a snuff-box to him. He often even makes the
- experiment before his friends at his summer-house at Guillaume
- Wood. Would anyone believe that a simple sternutation could
- produce such ravages on a quadrupedal organism? It is extremely
- curious, is it not?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said Charles, who was not listening to him.</p>
-<p>&quot;This shows us,&quot; went on the other, smiling with benign
- self-sufficiency, &quot;the innumerable irregularities of the nervous
- system. With regard to madame, she has always seemed to me, I
- confess, very susceptible. And so I should by no means recommend
- to you, my dear friend, any of those so-called remedies that,
- under the pretence of attacking the symptoms, attack the
- constitution. No; no useless physicking! Diet, that is all;
- sedatives, emollients, dulcification. Then, don't you think that
- perhaps her imagination should be worked upon?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;In what way? How?&quot; said Bovary.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! that is it. Such is indeed the question. 'That is the
- question,' as I lately read in a newspaper.&quot;</p>
-<p>But Emma, awaking, cried out--</p>
-<p>&quot;The letter! the letter!&quot;</p>
-<p>They thought she was delirious; and she was by midnight.
- Brain-fever had set in.</p>
-<p>For forty-three days Charles did not leave her. He gave up all
- his patients; he no longer went to bed; he was constantly feeling
- her pulse, putting on sinapisms and cold-water compresses. He
- sent Justin as far as Neufchatel for ice; the ice melted on the
- way; he sent him back again. He called Monsieur Canivet into
- consultation; he sent for Dr. Lariviere, his old master, from
- Rouen; he was in despair. What alarmed him most was Emma's
- prostration, for she did not speak, did not listen, did not even
- seem to suffer, as if her body and soul were both resting
- together after all their troubles.</p>
-<p>About the middle of October she could sit up in bed supported by
- pillows. Charles wept when he saw her eat her first
- bread-and-jelly. Her strength returned to her; she got up for a
- few hours of an afternoon, and one day, when she felt better, he
- tried to take her, leaning on his arm, for a walk round the
- garden. The sand of the paths was disappearing beneath the dead
- leaves; she walked slowly, dragging along her slippers, and
- leaning against Charles's shoulder. She smiled all the time.</p>
-<p>They went thus to the bottom of the garden near the terrace. She
- drew herself up slowly, shading her eyes with her hand to look.
- She looked far off, as far as she could, but on the horizon were
- only great bonfires of grass smoking on the hills.</p>
-<p>&quot;You will tire yourself, my darling!&quot; said Bovary. And, pushing
- her gently to make her go into the arbour, &quot;Sit down on this
- seat; you'll be comfortable.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh! no; not there!&quot; she said in a faltering voice.</p>
-<p>She was seized with giddiness, and from that evening her illness
- recommenced, with a more uncertain character, it is true, and
- more complex symptoms. Now she suffered in her heart, then in the
- chest, the head, the limbs; she had vomitings, in which Charles
- thought he saw the first signs of cancer.</p>
-<p>And besides this, the poor fellow was worried about money matters.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Fourteen</h3>
-<p>To begin with, he did not know how he could pay Monsieur Homais for all the
- physic supplied by him, and though, as a medical man, he was not obliged to
- pay for it, he nevertheless blushed a little at such an obligation. Then the
- expenses of the household, now that the servant was mistress, became terrible.
- Bills rained in upon the house; the tradesmen grumbled; Monsieur Lheureux especially
- harassed him. In fact, at the height of Emma's illness, the latter, taking advantage
- of the circumstances to make his bill larger, had hurriedly brought the cloak,
- the travelling-bag, two trunks instead of one, and a number of other things.
- It was very well for Charles to say he did not want them. The tradesman answered
- arrogantly that these articles had been ordered, and that he would not take
- them back; besides, it would vex madame in her convalescence; the doctor had
- better think it over; in short, he was resolved to sue him rather than give
- up his rights and take back his goods. Charles subsequently ordered them to
- be sent back to the shop. Felicite forgot; he had other things to attend to;
- then thought no more about them. Monsieur Lheureux returned to the charge, and,
- by turns threatening and whining, so managed that Bovary ended by signing a
- bill at six months. But hardly had he signed this bill than a bold idea occurred
- to him: it was to borrow a thousand francs from Lheureux. So, with an embarrassed
- air, he asked if it were possible to get them, adding that it would be for a
- year, at any interest he wished. Lheureux ran off to his shop, brought back
- the money, and dictated another bill, by which Bovary undertook to pay to his
- order on the 1st of September next the sum of one thousand and seventy francs,
- which, with the hundred and eighty already agreed to, made just twelve hundred
- and fifty, thus lending at six per cent in addition to one-fourth for commission:
- and the things bringing him in a good third at the least, this ought in twelve
- months to give him a profit of a hundred and thirty francs. He hoped that the
- business would not stop there; that the bills would not be paid; that they would
- be renewed; and that his poor little money, having thriven at the doctor's as
- at a hospital, would come back to him one day considerably more plump, and fat
- enough to burst his bag.</p>
-<p>Everything, moreover, succeeded with him. He was adjudicator for
- a supply of cider to the hospital at Neufchatel; Monsieur
- Guillaumin promised him some shares in the turf-pits of
- Gaumesnil, and he dreamt of establishing a new diligence service
- between Arcueil and Rouen, which no doubt would not be long in
- ruining the ramshackle van of the &quot;Lion d'Or,&quot; and that,
- travelling faster, at a cheaper rate, and carrying more luggage,
- would thus put into his hands the whole commerce of Yonville.</p>
-<p>Charles several times asked himself by what means he should next
- year be able to pay back so much money. He reflected, imagined
- expedients, such as applying to his father or selling something.
- But his father would be deaf, and he--he had nothing to sell.
- Then he foresaw such worries that he quickly dismissed so
- disagreeable a subject of meditation from his mind. He reproached
- himself with forgetting Emma, as if, all his thoughts belonging
- to this woman, it was robbing her of something not to be
- constantly thinking of her.</p>
-<p>The winter was severe, Madame Bovary's convalescence slow. When
- it was fine they wheeled her arm-chair to the window that
- overlooked the square, for she now had an antipathy to the
- garden, and the blinds on that side were always down. She wished
- the horse to be sold; what she formerly liked now displeased her.
- All her ideas seemed to be limited to the care of herself. She
- stayed in bed taking little meals, rang for the servant to
- inquire about her gruel or to chat with her. The snow on the
- market-roof threw a white, still light into the room; then the
- rain began to fall; and Emma waited daily with a mind full of
- eagerness for the inevitable return of some trifling events which
- nevertheless had no relation to her. The most important was the
- arrival of the &quot;Hirondelle&quot; in the evening. Then the landlady
- shouted out, and other voices answered, while Hippolyte's
- lantern, as he fetched the boxes from the boot, was like a star
- in the darkness. At mid-day Charles came in; then he went out
- again; next she took some beef-tea, and towards five o'clock, as
- the day drew in, the children coming back from school, dragging
- their wooden shoes along the pavement, knocked the clapper of the
- shutters with their rulers one after the other.</p>
-<p>It was at this hour that Monsieur Bournisien came to see her. He
- inquired after her health, gave her news, exhorted her to
- religion, in a coaxing little prattle that was not without its
- charm. The mere thought of his cassock comforted her.</p>
-<p>One day, when at the height of her illness, she had thought
- herself dying, and had asked for the communion; and, while they
- were making the preparations in her room for the sacrament, while
- they were turning the night table covered with syrups into an
- altar, and while Felicite was strewing dahlia flowers on the
- floor, Emma felt some power passing over her that freed her from
- her pains, from all perception, from all feeling. Her body,
- relieved, no longer thought; another life was beginning; it
- seemed to her that her being, mounting toward God, would be
- annihilated in that love like a burning incense that melts into
- vapour. The bed-clothes were sprinkled with holy water, the
- priest drew from the holy pyx the white wafer; and it was
- fainting with a celestial joy that she put out her lips to accept
- the body of the Saviour presented to her. The curtains of the
- alcove floated gently round her like clouds, and the rays of the
- two tapers burning on the night-table seemed to shine like
- dazzling halos. Then she let her head fall back, fancying she
- heard in space the music of seraphic harps, and perceived in an
- azure sky, on a golden throne in the midst of saints holding
- green palms, God the Father, resplendent with majesty, who with a
- sign sent to earth angels with wings of fire to carry her away in
- their arms.</p>
-<p>This splendid vision dwelt in her memory as the most beautiful
- thing that it was possible to dream, so that now she strove to
- recall her sensation. That still lasted, however, but in a less
- exclusive fashion and with a deeper sweetness. Her soul, tortured
- by pride, at length found rest in Christian humility, and,
- tasting the joy of weakness, she saw within herself the
- destruction of her will, that must have left a wide entrance for
- the inroads of heavenly grace. There existed, then, in the place
- of happiness, still greater joys--another love beyond all loves,
- without pause and without end, one that would grow eternally! She
- saw amid the illusions of her hope a state of purity floating
- above the earth mingling with heaven, to which she aspired. She
- wanted to become a saint. She bought chaplets and wore amulets;
- she wished to have in her room, by the side of her bed, a
- reliquary set in emeralds that she might kiss it every evening.</p>
-<p>The cure marvelled at this humour, although Emma's religion, he
- thought, might, from its fervour, end by touching on heresy,
- extravagance. But not being much versed in these matters, as soon
- as they went beyond a certain limit he wrote to Monsieur Boulard,
- bookseller to Monsignor, to send him &quot;something good for a lady
- who was very clever.&quot; The bookseller, with as much indifference
- as if he had been sending off hardware to niggers, packed up,
- pellmell, everything that was then the fashion in the pious book
- trade. There were little manuals in questions and answers,
- pamphlets of aggressive tone after the manner of Monsieur de
- Maistre, and certain novels in rose-coloured bindings and with a
- honied style, manufactured by troubadour seminarists or penitent
- blue-stockings. There were the &quot;Think of it; the Man of the World
- at Mary's Feet, by Monsieur de ***, decorated with many Orders&quot;;
- &quot;The Errors of Voltaire, for the Use of the Young,&quot; etc.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary's mind was not yet sufficiently clear to apply
- herself seriously to anything; moreover, she began this reading
- in too much hurry. She grew provoked at the doctrines of
- religion; the arrogance of the polemic writings displeased her by
- their inveteracy in attacking people she did not know; and the
- secular stories, relieved with religion, seemed to her written in
- such ignorance of the world, that they insensibly estranged her
- from the truths for whose proof she was looking. Nevertheless,
- she persevered; and when the volume slipped from her hands, she
- fancied herself seized with the finest Catholic melancholy that
- an ethereal soul could conceive.</p>
-<p>As for the memory of Rodolphe, she had thrust it back to the
- bottom of her heart, and it remained there more solemn and more
- motionless than a king's mummy in a catacomb. An exhalation
- escaped from this embalmed love, that, penetrating through
- everything, perfumed with tenderness the immaculate atmosphere in
- which she longed to live. When she knelt on her Gothic prie-Dieu,
- she addressed to the Lord the same suave words that she had
- murmured formerly to her lover in the outpourings of adultery. It
- was to make faith come; but no delights descended from the
- heavens, and she arose with tired limbs and with a vague feeling
- of a gigantic dupery.</p>
-<p>This searching after faith, she thought, was only one merit the
- more, and in the pride of her devoutness Emma compared herself to
- those grand ladies of long ago whose glory she, had dreamed of
- over a portrait of La Valliere, and who, trailing with so much
- majesty the lace-trimmed trains of their long gowns, retired into
- solitudes to shed at the feet of Christ all the tears of hearts
- that life had wounded.</p>
-<p>Then she gave herself up to excessive charity. She sewed clothes
- for the poor, she sent wood to women in childbed; and Charles one
- day, on coming home, found three good-for-nothings in the kitchen
- seated at the table eating soup. She had her little girl, whom
- during her illness her husband had sent back to the nurse,
- brought home. She wanted to teach her to read; even when Berthe
- cried, she was not vexed. She had made up her mind to
- resignation, to universal indulgence. Her language about
- everything was full of ideal expressions. She said to her child,
- &quot;Is your stomach-ache better, my angel?&quot;</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary senior found nothing to censure except perhaps this
- mania of knitting jackets for orphans instead of mending her own
- house-linen; but, harassed with domestic quarrels, the good woman
- took pleasure in this quiet house, and she even stayed there till
- after Easter, to escape the sarcasms of old Bovary, who never
- failed on Good Friday to order chitterlings.</p>
-<p>Besides the companionship of her mother-in-law, who strengthened
- her a little by the rectitude of her judgment and her grave ways,
- Emma almost every day had other visitors. These were Madame
- Langlois, Madame Caron, Madame Dubreuil, Madame Tuvache, and
- regularly from two to five o'clock the excellent Madame Homais,
- who, for her part, had never believed any of the tittle-tattle
- about her neighbour. The little Homais also came to see her;
- Justin accompanied them. He went up with them to her bedroom, and
- remained standing near the door, motionless and mute. Often even
- Madame Bovary; taking no heed of him, began her toilette. She
- began by taking out her comb, shaking her head with a quick
- movement, and when he for the first time saw all this mass of
- hair that fell to her knees unrolling in black ringlets, it was
- to him, poor child! like a sudden entrance into something new and
- strange, whose splendour terrified him.</p>
-<p>Emma, no doubt, did not notice his silent attentions or his
- timidity. She had no suspicion that the love vanished from her
- life was there, palpitating by her side, beneath that coarse
- holland shirt, in that youthful heart open to the emanations of
- her beauty. Besides, she now enveloped all things with such
- indifference, she had words so affectionate with looks so
- haughty, such contradictory ways, that one could no longer
- distinguish egotism from charity, or corruption from virtue. One
- evening, for example, she was angry with the servant, who had
- asked to go out, and stammered as she tried to find some pretext.
- Then suddenly--</p>
-<p>&quot;So you love him?&quot; she said.</p>
-<p>And without waiting for any answer from Felicite, who was
- blushing, she added, &quot;There! run along; enjoy yourself!&quot;</p>
-<p>In the beginning of spring she had the garden turned up from end
- to end, despite Bovary's remonstrances. However, he was glad to
- see her at last manifest a wish of any kind. As she grew stronger
- she displayed more wilfulness. First, she found occasion to expel
- Mere Rollet, the nurse, who during her convalescence had
- contracted the habit of coming too often to the kitchen with her
- two nurslings and her boarder, better off for teeth than a
- cannibal. Then she got rid of the Homais family, successively
- dismissed all the other visitors, and even frequented church less
- assiduously, to the great approval of the druggist, who said to
- her in a friendly way--</p>
-<p>&quot;You were going in a bit for the cassock!&quot;</p>
-<p>As formerly, Monsieur Bournisien dropped in every day when he
- came out after catechism class. He preferred staying out of doors
- to taking the air &quot;in the grove,&quot; as he called the arbour. This
- was the time when Charles came home. They were hot; some sweet
- cider was brought out, and they drank together to madame's
- complete restoration.</p>
-<p>Binet was there; that is to say, a little lower down against the
- terrace wall, fishing for crayfish. Bovary invited him to have a
- drink, and he thoroughly understood the uncorking of the stone
- bottles.</p>
-<p>&quot;You must,&quot; he said, throwing a satisfied glance all round him,
- even to the very extremity of the landscape, &quot;hold the bottle
- perpendicularly on the table, and after the strings are cut,
- press up the cork with little thrusts, gently, gently, as indeed
- they do seltzer-water at restaurants.&quot;</p>
-<p>But during his demonstration the cider often spurted right into
- their faces, and then the ecclesiastic, with a thick laugh, never
- missed this joke--</p>
-<p>&quot;Its goodness strikes the eye!&quot;</p>
-<p>He was, in fact, a good fellow and one day he was not even
- scandalised at the chemist, who advised Charles to give madame
- some distraction by taking her to the theatre at Rouen to hear
- the illustrious tenor, Lagardy. Homais, surprised at this
- silence, wanted to know his opinion, and the priest declared that
- he considered music less dangerous for morals than literature.</p>
-<p>But the chemist took up the defence of letters. The theatre, he
- contended, served for railing at prejudices, and, beneath a mask
- of pleasure, taught virtue.</p>
-<p>&quot;'Castigat ridendo mores,'* Monsieur Bournisien! Thus consider
- the greater part of Voltaire's tragedies; they are cleverly
- strewn with philosophical reflections, that made them a vast
- school of morals and diplomacy for the people.&quot;</p>
-<p>*It corrects customs through laughter.</p>
-<p>
- &quot;I,&quot; said Binet, &quot;once saw a piece called the 'Gamin de Paris,'
- in which there was the character of an old general that is really
- hit off to a T. He sets down a young swell who had seduced a
- working girl, who at the ending--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Certainly,&quot; continued Homais, &quot;there is bad literature as there
- is bad pharmacy, but to condemn in a lump the most important of
- the fine arts seems to me a stupidity, a Gothic idea, worthy of
- the abominable times that imprisoned Galileo.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I know very well,&quot; objected the cure, &quot;that there are good
- works, good authors. However, if it were only those persons of
- different sexes united in a bewitching apartment, decorated
- rouge, those lights, those effeminate voices, all this must, in
- the long-run, engender a certain mental libertinage, give rise to
- immodest thoughts and impure temptations. Such, at any rate, is
- the opinion of all the Fathers. Finally,&quot; he added, suddenly
- assuming a mystic tone of voice while he rolled a pinch of snuff
- between his fingers, &quot;if the Church has condemned the theatre,
- she must be right; we must submit to her decrees.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why,&quot; asked the druggist, &quot;should she excommunicate actors?
- For
- formerly they openly took part in religious ceremonies. Yes, in
- the middle of the chancel they acted; they performed a kind of
- farce called 'Mysteries,' which often offended against the laws
- of decency.&quot;</p>
-<p>The ecclesiastic contented himself with uttering a groan, and the
- chemist went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;It's like it is in the Bible; there there are, you know, more
- than one piquant detail, matters really libidinous!&quot;</p>
-<p>And on a gesture of irritation from Monsieur Bournisien--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! you'll admit that it is not a book to place in the hands of
- a young girl, and I should be sorry if Athalie--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But it is the Protestants, and not we,&quot; cried the other
- impatiently, &quot;who recommend the Bible.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No matter,&quot; said Homais. &quot;I am surprised that in our days,
- in
- this century of enlightenment, anyone should still persist in
- proscribing an intellectual relaxation that is inoffensive,
- moralising, and sometimes even hygienic; is it not, doctor?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No doubt,&quot; replied the doctor carelessly, either because,
- sharing the same ideas, he wished to offend no one, or else
- because he had not any ideas.</p>
-<p>The conversation seemed at an end when the chemist thought fit to
- shoot a Parthian arrow.</p>
-<p>&quot;I've known priests who put on ordinary clothes to go and see
- dancers kicking about.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Come, come!&quot; said the cure.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! I've known some!&quot; And separating the words of his sentence,
- Homais repeated, &quot;I--have--known--some!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, they were wrong,&quot; said Bournisien, resigned to anything.</p>
-<p>&quot;By Jove! they go in for more than that,&quot; exclaimed the druggist.</p>
-<p>&quot;Sir!&quot; replied the ecclesiastic, with such angry eyes that the
- druggist was intimidated by them.</p>
-<p>&quot;I only mean to say,&quot; he replied in less brutal a tone, &quot;that
- toleration is the surest way to draw people to religion.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;That is true! that is true!&quot; agreed the good fellow, sitting
- down again on his chair. But he stayed only a few moments.</p>
-<p>Then, as soon as he had gone, Monsieur Homais said to the doctor--</p>
-<p>&quot;That's what I call a cock-fight. I beat him, did you see, in a
- way!--Now take my advice. Take madame to the theatre, if it were
- only for once in your life, to enrage one of these ravens, hang
- it! If anyone could take my place, I would accompany you myself.
- Be quick about it. Lagardy is only going to give one performance;
- he's engaged to go to England at a high salary. From what I hear,
- he's a regular dog; he's rolling in money; he's taking three
- mistresses and a cook along with him. All these great artists
- burn the candle at both ends; they require a dissolute life, that
- suits the imagination to some extent. But they die at the
- hospital, because they haven't the sense when young to lay by.
- Well, a pleasant dinner! Goodbye till to-morrow.&quot;</p>
-<p>The idea of the theatre quickly germinated in Bovary's head, for
- he at once communicated it to his wife, who at first refused,
- alleging the fatigue, the worry, the expense; but, for a wonder,
- Charles did not give in, so sure was he that this recreation
- would be good for her. He saw nothing to prevent it: his mother
- had sent them three hundred francs which he had no longer
- expected; the current debts were not very large, and the falling
- in of Lheureux's bills was still so far off that there was no
- need to think about them. Besides, imagining that she was
- refusing from delicacy, he insisted the more; so that by dint of
- worrying her she at last made up her mind, and the next day at
- eight o'clock they set out in the &quot;Hirondelle.&quot;</p>
-<p>The druggist, whom nothing whatever kept at Yonville, but who
- thought himself bound not to budge from it, sighed as he saw them
- go.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, a pleasant journey!&quot; he said to them; &quot;happy mortals
- that
- you are!&quot;</p>
-<p>Then addressing himself to Emma, who was wearing a blue silk gown
- with four flounces--</p>
-<p>&quot;You are as lovely as a Venus. You'll cut a figure at Rouen.&quot;</p>
-<p>The diligence stopped at the &quot;Croix-Rouge&quot; in the Place
- Beauvoisine. It was the inn that is in every provincial faubourg,
- with large stables and small bedrooms, where one sees in the
- middle of the court chickens pilfering the oats under the muddy
- gigs of the commercial travellers--a good old house, with
- worm-eaten balconies that creak in the wind on winter nights,
- always full of people, noise, and feeding, whose black tables are
- sticky with coffee and brandy, the thick windows made yellow by
- the flies, the damp napkins stained with cheap wine, and that
- always smells of the village, like ploughboys dressed in
- Sundayclothes, has a cafe on the street, and towards the
- countryside a kitchen-garden. Charles at once set out. He muddled
- up the stage-boxes with the gallery, the pit with the boxes;
- asked for explanations, did not understand them; was sent from
- the box-office to the acting-manager; came back to the inn,
- returned to the theatre, and thus several times traversed the
- whole length of the town from the theatre to the boulevard.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary bought a bonnet, gloves, and a bouquet. The doctor was much afraid
- of missing the beginning, and, without having had time to swallow a plate of
- soup, they presented themselves at the doors of the theatre, which were still
- closed. </p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Fifteen</h3>
-<p>The crowd was waiting against the wall, symmetrically enclosed between the
- balustrades. At the corner of the neighbouring streets huge bills repeated in
- quaint letters &quot;Lucie de Lammermoor-Lagardy-Opera-etc.&quot; The weather
- was fine, the people were hot, perspiration trickled amid the curls, and handkerchiefs
- taken from pockets were mopping red foreheads; and now and then a warm wind
- that blew from the river gently stirred the border of the tick awnings hanging
- from the doors of the public-houses. A little lower down, however, one was refreshed
- by a current of icy air that smelt of tallow, leather, and oil. This was an
- exhalation from the Rue des Charrettes, full of large black warehouses where
- they made casks. </p>
-<p>For fear of seeming ridiculous, Emma before going in wished to
- have a little stroll in the harbour, and Bovary prudently kept
- his tickets in his hand, in the pocket of his trousers, which he
- pressed against his stomach.</p>
-<p>Her heart began to beat as soon as she reached the vestibule. She
- involuntarily smiled with vanity on seeing the crowd rushing to
- the right by the other corridor while she went up the staircase
- to the reserved seats. She was as pleased as a child to push with
- her finger the large tapestried door. She breathed in with all
- her might the dusty smell of the lobbies, and when she was seated
- in her box she bent forward with the air of a duchess.</p>
-<p>The theatre was beginning to fill; opera-glasses were taken from
- their cases, and the subscribers, catching sight of one another,
- were bowing. They came to seek relaxation in the fine arts after
- the anxieties of business; but &quot;business&quot; was not forgotten; they
- still talked cottons, spirits of wine, or indigo. The heads of
- old men were to be seen, inexpressive and peaceful, with their
- hair and complexions looking like silver medals tarnished by
- steam of lead. The young beaux were strutting about in the pit,
- showing in the opening of their waistcoats their pink or
- applegreen cravats, and Madame Bovary from above admired them
- leaning on their canes with golden knobs in the open palm of
- their yellow gloves.</p>
-<p>Now the lights of the orchestra were lit, the lustre, let down
- from the ceiling, throwing by the glimmering of its facets a
- sudden gaiety over the theatre; then the musicians came in one
- after the other; and first there was the protracted hubbub of the
- basses grumbling, violins squeaking, cornets trumpeting, flutes
- and flageolets fifing. But three knocks were heard on the stage,
- a rolling of drums began, the brass instruments played some
- chords, and the curtain rising, discovered a country-scene.</p>
-<p>It was the cross-roads of a wood, with a fountain shaded by an
- oak to the left. Peasants and lords with plaids on their
- shoulders were singing a hunting-song together; then a captain
- suddenly came on, who evoked the spirit of evil by lifting both
- his arms to heaven. Another appeared; they went away, and the
- hunters started afresh. She felt herself transported to the
- reading of her youth, into the midst of Walter Scott. She seemed
- to hear through the mist the sound of the Scotch bagpipes
- re-echoing over the heather. Then her remembrance of the novel
- helping her to understand the libretto, she followed the story
- phrase by phrase, while vague thoughts that came back to her
- dispersed at once again with the bursts of music. She gave
- herself up to the lullaby of the melodies, and felt all her being
- vibrate as if the violin bows were drawn over her nerves. She had
- not eyes enough to look at the costumes, the scenery, the actors,
- the painted trees that shook when anyone walked, and the velvet
- caps, cloaks, swords--all those imaginary things that floated
- amid the harmony as in the atmosphere of another world. But a
- young woman stepped forward, throwing a purse to a squire in
- green. She was left alone, and the flute was heard like the
- murmur of a fountain or the warbling of birds. Lucie attacked her
- cavatina in G major bravely. She plained of love; she longed for
- wings. Emma, too, fleeing from life, would have liked to fly away
- in an embrace. Suddenly Edgar-Lagardy appeared.</p>
-<p>He had that splendid pallor that gives something of the majesty
- of marble to the ardent races of the South. His vigorous form was
- tightly clad in a brown-coloured doublet; a small chiselled
- poniard hung against his left thigh, and he cast round laughing
- looks showing his white teeth. They said that a Polish princess
- having heard him sing one night on the beach at Biarritz, where
- he mended boats, had fallen in love with him. She had ruined
- herself for him. He had deserted her for other women, and this
- sentimental celebrity did not fail to enhance his artistic
- reputation. The diplomatic mummer took care always to slip into
- his advertisements some poetic phrase on the fascination of his
- person and the susceptibility of his soul. A fine organ,
- imperturbable coolness, more temperament than intelligence, more
- power of emphasis than of real singing, made up the charm of this
- admirable charlatan nature, in which there was something of the
- hairdresser and the toreador.</p>
-<p>From the first scene he evoked enthusiasm. He pressed Lucy in his
- arms, he left her, he came back, he seemed desperate; he had
- outbursts of rage, then elegiac gurglings of infinite sweetness,
- and the notes escaped from his bare neck full of sobs and kisses.
- Emma leant forward to see him, clutching the velvet of the box
- with her nails. She was filling her heart with these melodious
- lamentations that were drawn out to the accompaniment of the
- double-basses, like the cries of the drowning in the tumult of a
- tempest. She recognised all the intoxication and the anguish that
- had almost killed her. The voice of a prima donna seemed to her
- to be but echoes of her conscience, and this illusion that
- charmed her as some very thing of her own life. But no one on
- earth had loved her with such love. He had not wept like Edgar
- that last moonlit night when they said, &quot;To-morrow! to-morrow!&quot;
- The theatre rang with cheers; they recommenced the entire
- movement; the lovers spoke of the flowers on their tomb, of vows,
- exile, fate, hopes; and when they uttered the final adieu, Emma
- gave a sharp cry that mingled with the vibrations of the last
- chords.</p>
-<p>&quot;But why,&quot; asked Bovary, &quot;does that gentleman persecute her?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No, no!&quot; she answered; &quot;he is her lover!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yet he vows vengeance on her family, while the other one who
- came on before said, 'I love Lucie and she loves me!' Besides, he
- went off with her father arm in arm. For he certainly is her
- father, isn't he--the ugly little man with a cock's feather in
- his hat?&quot;</p>
-<p>Despite Emma's explanations, as soon as the recitative duet began
- in which Gilbert lays bare his abominable machinations to his
- master Ashton, Charles, seeing the false troth-ring that is to
- deceive Lucie, thought it was a love-gift sent by Edgar. He
- confessed, moreover, that he did not understand the story because
- of the music, which interfered very much with the words.</p>
-<p>&quot;What does it matter?&quot; said Emma. &quot;Do be quiet!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, but you know,&quot; he went on, leaning against her shoulder, &quot;I
- like to understand things.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Be quiet! be quiet!&quot; she cried impatiently.</p>
-<p>Lucie advanced, half supported by her women, a wreath of orange
- blossoms in her hair, and paler than the white satin of her gown.
- Emma dreamed of her marriage day; she saw herself at home again
- amid the corn in the little path as they walked to the church.
- Oh, why had not she, like this woman, resisted, implored? She, on
- the contrary, had been joyous, without seeing the abyss into
- which she was throwing herself. Ah! if in the freshness of her
- beauty, before the soiling of marriage and the disillusions of
- adultery, she could have anchored her life upon some great,
- strong heart, then virtue, tenderness, voluptuousness, and duty
- blending, she would never have fallen from so high a happiness.
- But that happiness, no doubt, was a lie invented for the despair
- of all desire. She now knew the smallness of the passions that
- art exaggerated. So, striving to divert her thoughts, Emma
- determined now to see in this reproduction of her sorrows only a
- plastic fantasy, well enough to please the eye, and she even
- smiled internally with disdainful pity when at the back of the
- stage under the velvet hangings a man appeared in a black cloak.</p>
-<p>His large Spanish hat fell at a gesture he made, and immediately
- the instruments and the singers began the sextet. Edgar, flashing
- with fury, dominated all the others with his clearer voice;
- Ashton hurled homicidal provocations at him in deep notes; Lucie
- uttered her shrill plaint, Arthur at one side, his modulated
- tones in the middle register, and the bass of the minister pealed
- forth like an organ, while the voices of the women repeating his
- words took them up in chorus delightfully. They were all in a row
- gesticulating, and anger, vengeance, jealousy, terror, and
- stupefaction breathed forth at once from their half-opened
- mouths. The outraged lover brandished his naked sword; his
- guipure ruffle rose with jerks to the movements of his chest, and
- he walked from right to left with long strides, clanking against
- the boards the silver-gilt spurs of his soft boots, widening out
- at the ankles. He, she thought must have an inexhaustible love
- to lavish it upon the crowd with such effusion. All her small
- fault-findings faded before the poetry of the part that absorbed
- her; and, drawn towards this man by the illusion of the
- character, she tried to imagine to herself his life--that life
- resonant, extraordinary, splendid, and that might have been hers
- if fate had willed it. They would have known one another, loved
- one another. With him, through all the kingdoms of Europe she
- would have travelled from capital to capital, sharing his
- fatigues and his pride, picking up the flowers thrown to him,
- herself embroidering his costumes. Then each evening, at the back
- of a box, behind the golden trellis-work she would have drunk in
- eagerly the expansions of this soul that would have sung for her
- alone; from the stage, even as he acted, he would have looked at
- her. But the mad idea seized her that he was looking at her; it
- was certain. She longed to run to his arms, to take refuge in his
- strength, as in the incarnation of love itself, and to say to
- him, to cry out, &quot;Take me away! carry me with you! let us go!
- Thine, thine! all my ardour and all my dreams!&quot;</p>
-<p>The curtain fell.</p>
-<p>The smell of the gas mingled with that of the breaths, the waving
- of the fans, made the air more suffocating. Emma wanted to go
- out; the crowd filled the corridors, and she fell back in her
- arm-chair with palpitations that choked her. Charles, fearing
- that she would faint, ran to the refreshment-room to get a glass
- of barley-water.</p>
-<p>He had great difficulty in getting back to his seat, for his
- elbows were jerked at every step because of the glass he held in
- his hands, and he even spilt three-fourths on the shoulders of a
- Rouen lady in short sleeves, who feeling the cold liquid running
- down to her loins, uttered cries like a peacock, as if she were
- being assassinated. Her husband, who was a millowner, railed at
- the clumsy fellow, and while she was with her handkerchief wiping
- up the stains from her handsome cherry-coloured taffeta gown, he
- angrily muttered about indemnity, costs, reimbursement. At last
- Charles reached his wife, saying to her, quite out of breath--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ma foi! I thought I should have had to stay there. There is such
- a crowd--SUCH a crowd!&quot;</p>
-<p>He added--</p>
-<p>&quot;Just guess whom I met up there! Monsieur Leon!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Leon?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Himself! He's coming along to pay his respects.&quot; And as he
- finished these words the ex-clerk of Yonville entered the box.</p>
-<p>He held out his hand with the ease of a gentleman; and Madame
- Bovary extended hers, without doubt obeying the attraction of a
- stronger will. She had not felt it since that spring evening when
- the rain fell upon the green leaves, and they had said good-bye
- standing at the window. But soon recalling herself to the
- necessities of the situation, with an effort she shook off the
- torpor of her memories, and began stammering a few hurried words.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah, good-day! What! you here?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Silence!&quot; cried a voice from the pit, for the third act was
- beginning.</p>
-<p>&quot;So you are at Rouen?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;And since when?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Turn them out! turn them out!&quot; People were looking at them. They
- were silent.</p>
-<p>But from that moment she listened no more; and the chorus of the
- guests, the scene between Ashton and his servant, the grand duet
- in D major, all were for her as far off as if the instruments had
- grown less sonorous and the characters more remote. She
- remembered the games at cards at the druggist's, and the walk to
- the nurse's, the reading in the arbour, the tete-a-tete by the
- fireside--all that poor love, so calm and so protracted, so
- discreet, so tender, and that she had nevertheless forgotten. And
- why had he come back? What combination of circumstances had
- brought him back into her life? He was standing behind her,
- leaning with his shoulder against the wall of the box; now and
- again she felt herself shuddering beneath the hot breath from his
- nostrils falling upon her hair.</p>
-<p>&quot;Does this amuse you?&quot; said he, bending over her so closely that
- the end of his moustache brushed her cheek. She replied
- carelessly--</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, dear me, no, not much.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then he proposed that they should leave the theatre and go and
- take an ice somewhere.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, not yet; let us stay,&quot; said Bovary. &quot;Her hair's undone;
- this
- is going to be tragic.&quot;</p>
-<p>But the mad scene did not at all interest Emma, and the acting of
- the singer seemed to her exaggerated.</p>
-<p>&quot;She screams too loud,&quot; said she, turning to Charles, who was
- listening.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes--a little,&quot; he replied, undecided between the frankness of
- his pleasure and his respect for his wife's opinion.</p>
-<p>Then with a sigh Leon said--</p>
-<p>&quot;The heat is--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Unbearable! Yes!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Do you feel unwell?&quot; asked Bovary.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, I am stifling; let us go.&quot;</p>
-<p>Monsieur Leon put her long lace shawl carefully about her
- shoulders, and all three went off to sit down in the harbour, in
- the open air, outside the windows of a cafe.</p>
-<p>First they spoke of her illness, although Emma interrupted
- Charles from time to time, for fear, she said, of boring Monsieur
- Leon; and the latter told them that he had come to spend two
- years at Rouen in a large office, in order to get practice in his
- profession, which was different in Normandy and Paris. Then he
- inquired after Berthe, the Homais, Mere Lefrancois, and as they
- had, in the husband's presence, nothing more to say to one
- another, the conversation soon came to an end.</p>
-<p>People coming out of the theatre passed along the pavement,
- humming or shouting at the top of their voices, &quot;O bel ange, ma
- Lucie!*&quot; Then Leon, playing the dilettante, began to talk music.
- He had seen Tambourini, Rubini, Persiani, Grisi, and, compared
- with them, Lagardy, despite his grand outbursts, was nowhere.</p>
-<p>*Oh beautiful angel, my Lucie.</p>
-<p>
- &quot;Yet,&quot; interrupted Charles, who was slowly sipping his
- rum-sherbet, &quot;they say that he is quite admirable in the last
- act. I regret leaving before the end, because it was beginning to
- amuse me.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why,&quot; said the clerk, &quot;he will soon give another performance.&quot;</p>
-<p>But Charles replied that they were going back next day. &quot;Unless,&quot;
- he added, turning to his wife, &quot;you would like to stay alone,
- kitten?&quot;</p>
-<p>And changing his tactics at this unexpected opportunity that
- presented itself to his hopes, the young man sang the praises of
- Lagardy in the last number. It was really superb, sublime. Then
- Charles insisted--</p>
-<p>&quot;You would get back on Sunday. Come, make up your mind. You are
- wrong if you feel that this is doing you the least good.&quot;</p>
-<p>The tables round them, however, were emptying; a waiter came and
- stood discreetly near them. Charles, who understood, took out his
- purse; the clerk held back his arm, and did not forget to leave
- two more pieces of silver that he made chink on the marble.</p>
-<p>&quot;I am really sorry,&quot; said Bovary, &quot;about the money which you
- are--&quot;</p>
-<p> The other made a careless gesture full of cordiality, and taking
- his hat said--</p>
-<p>&quot;It is settled, isn't it? To-morrow at six o'clock?&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles explained once more that he could not absent himself
- longer, but that nothing prevented Emma--</p>
-<p>&quot;But,&quot; she stammered, with a strange smile, &quot;I am not sure--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, you must think it over. We'll see. Night brings counsel.&quot;
- Then to Leon, who was walking along with them, &quot;Now that you are
- in our part of the world, I hope you'll come and ask us for some
- dinner now and then.&quot;</p>
-<p>The clerk declared he would not fail to do so, being obliged, moreover, to
- go to Yonville on some business for his office. And they parted before the Saint-Herbland
- Passage just as the clock in the cathedral struck half-past eleven.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h2 align="center"></h2>
-<h2 align="center">Part III</h2>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter One</h3>
-<p>Monsieur Leon, while studying law, had gone pretty often to the dancing-rooms,
- where he was even a great success amongst the grisettes, who thought he had
- a distinguished air. He was the best-mannered of the students; he wore his hair
- neither too long nor too short, didn't spend all his quarter's money on the
- first day of the month, and kept on good terms with his professors. As for excesses,
- he had always abstained from them, as much from cowardice as from refinement.
-</p>
-<p>Often when he stayed in his room to read, or else when sitting of
- an evening under the lime-trees of the Luxembourg, he let his
- Code fall to the ground, and the memory of Emma came back to him.
- But gradually this feeling grew weaker, and other desires
- gathered over it, although it still persisted through them all.
- For Leon did not lose all hope; there was for him, as it were, a
- vague promise floating in the future, like a golden fruit
- suspended from some fantastic tree.</p>
-<p>Then, seeing her again after three years of absence his passion
- reawakened. He must, he thought, at last make up his mind to
- possess her. Moreover, his timidity had worn off by contact with
- his gay companions, and he returned to the provinces despising
- everyone who had not with varnished shoes trodden the asphalt of
- the boulevards. By the side of a Parisienne in her laces, in the
- drawing-room of some illustrious physician, a person driving his
- carriage and wearing many orders, the poor clerk would no doubt
- have trembled like a child; but here, at Rouen, on the harbour,
- with the wife of this small doctor he felt at his ease, sure
- beforehand he would shine. Self-possession depends on its
- environment. We don't speak on the first floor as on the fourth;
- and the wealthy woman seems to have, about her, to guard her
- virtue, all her banknotes, like a cuirass in the lining of her
- corset.</p>
-<p>On leaving the Bovarys the night before, Leon had followed them
- through the streets at a distance; then having seen them stop at
- the &quot;Croix-Rouge,&quot; he turned on his heel, and spent the night
- meditating a plan.</p>
-<p>So the next day about five o'clock he walked into the kitchen of
- the inn, with a choking sensation in his throat, pale cheeks, and
- that resolution of cowards that stops at nothing.</p>
-<p>&quot;The gentleman isn't in,&quot; answered a servant.</p>
-<p>This seemed to him a good omen. He went upstairs.</p>
-<p>She was not disturbed at his approach; on the contrary, she
- apologised for having neglected to tell him where they were
- staying.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, I divined it!&quot; said Leon.</p>
-<p>He pretended he had been guided towards her by chance, by,
- instinct. She began to smile; and at once, to repair his folly,
- Leon told her that he had spent his morning in looking for her in
- all the hotels in the town one after the other.</p>
-<p>&quot;So you have made up your mind to stay?&quot; he added.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; she said, &quot;and I am wrong. One ought not to accustom
- oneself to impossible pleasures when there are a thousand demands
- upon one.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, I can imagine!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! no; for you, you are a man!&quot;</p>
-<p>But men too had had their trials, and the conversation went off
- into certain philosophical reflections. Emma expatiated much on
- the misery of earthly affections, and the eternal isolation in
- which the heart remains entombed.</p>
-<p>To show off, or from a naive imitation of this melancholy which
- called forth his, the young man declared that he had been awfully
- bored during the whole course of his studies. The law irritated
- him, other vocations attracted him, and his mother never ceased
- worrying him in every one of her letters. As they talked they
- explained more and more fully the motives of their sadness,
- working themselves up in their progressive confidence. But they
- sometimes stopped short of the complete exposition of their
- thought, and then sought to invent a phrase that might express it
- all the same. She did not confess her passion for another; he did
- not say that he had forgotten her.</p>
-<p>Perhaps he no longer remembered his suppers with girls after
- masked balls; and no doubt she did not recollect the rendezvous
- of old when she ran across the fields in the morning to her
- lover's house. The noises of the town hardly reached them, and
- the room seemed small, as if on purpose to hem in their solitude
- more closely. Emma, in a dimity dressing-gown, leant her head
- against the back of the old arm-chair; the yellow wall-paper
- formed, as it were, a golden background behind her, and her bare
- head was mirrored in the glass with the white parting in the
- middle, and the tip of her ears peeping out from the folds of her
- hair.</p>
-<p>&quot;But pardon me!&quot; she said. &quot;It is wrong of me. I weary you with
- my eternal complaints.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No, never, never!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;If you knew,&quot; she went on, raising to the ceiling her beautiful
- eyes, in which a tear was trembling, &quot;all that I had dreamed!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;And I! Oh, I too have suffered! Often I went out; I went away. I
- dragged myself along the quays, seeking distraction amid the din
- of the crowd without being able to banish the heaviness that
- weighed upon me. In an engraver's shop on the boulevard there is
- an Italian print of one of the Muses. She is draped in a tunic,
- and she is looking at the moon, with forget-me-nots in her
- flowing hair. Something drove me there continually; I stayed
- there hours together.&quot; Then in a trembling voice, &quot;She resembled
- you a little.&quot;</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary turned away her head that he might not see the
- irrepressible smile she felt rising to her lips.</p>
-<p>&quot;Often,&quot; he went on, &quot;I wrote you letters that I tore up.&quot;</p>
-<p>She did not answer. He continued--</p>
-<p>&quot;I sometimes fancied that some chance would bring you. I thought
- I recognised you at street-corners, and I ran after all the
- carriages through whose windows I saw a shawl fluttering, a veil
- like yours.&quot;</p>
-<p>She seemed resolved to let him go on speaking without
- interruption. Crossing her arms and bending down her face, she
- looked at the rosettes on her slippers, and at intervals made
- little movements inside the satin of them with her toes.</p>
-<p>At last she sighed.</p>
-<p>&quot;But the most wretched thing, is it not--is to drag out, as I do,
- a useless existence. If our pains were only of some use to
- someone, we should find consolation in the thought of the
- sacrifice.&quot;</p>
-<p>He started off in praise of virtue, duty, and silent immolation,
- having himself an incredible longing for self-sacrifice that he
- could not satisfy.</p>
-<p>&quot;I should much like,&quot; she said, &quot;to be a nurse at a hospital.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Alas! men have none of these holy missions, and I see nowhere
- any calling--unless perhaps that of a doctor.&quot;</p>
-<p>With a slight shrug of her shoulders, Emma interrupted him to
- speak of her illness, which had almost killed her. What a pity!
- She should not be suffering now! Leon at once envied the calm of
- the tomb, and one evening he had even made his will, asking to be
- buried in that beautiful rug with velvet stripes he had received
- from her. For this was how they would have wished to be, each
- setting up an ideal to which they were now adapting their past
- life. Besides, speech is a rolling-mill that always thins out the
- sentiment.</p>
-<p>But at this invention of the rug she asked, &quot;But why?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why?&quot; He hesitated. &quot;Because I loved you so!&quot; And congratulating
- himself at having surmounted the difficulty, Leon watched her
- face out of the corner of his eyes.</p>
-<p>It was like the sky when a gust of wind drives the clouds across.
- The mass of sad thoughts that darkened them seemed to be lifted
- from her blue eyes; her whole face shone. He waited. At last she
- replied--</p>
-<p>&quot;I always suspected it.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then they went over all the trifling events of that far-off
- existence, whose joys and sorrows they had just summed up in one
- word. They recalled the arbour with clematis, the dresses she had
- worn, the furniture of her room, the whole of her house.</p>
-<p>&quot;And our poor cactuses, where are they?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;The cold killed them this winter.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! how I have thought of them, do you know? I often saw them
- again as of yore, when on the summer mornings the sun beat down
- upon your blinds, and I saw your two bare arms passing out
- amongst the flowers.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Poor friend!&quot; she said, holding out her hand to him.</p>
-<p>Leon swiftly pressed his lips to it. Then, when he had taken a
- deep breath--</p>
-<p>&quot;At that time you were to me I know not what incomprehensible
- force that took captive my life. Once, for instance, I went to
- see you; but you, no doubt, do not remember it.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I do,&quot; she said; &quot;go on.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;You were downstairs in the ante-room, ready to go out, standing
- on the last stair; you were wearing a bonnet with small blue
- flowers; and without any invitation from you, in spite of myself,
- I went with you. Every moment, however, I grew more and more
- conscious of my folly, and I went on walking by you, not daring
- to follow you completely, and unwilling to leave you. When you
- went into a shop, I waited in the street, and I watched you
- through the window taking off your gloves and counting the change
- on the counter. Then you rang at Madame Tuvache's; you were let
- in, and I stood like an idiot in front of the great heavy door
- that had closed after you.&quot;</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary, as she listened to him, wondered that she was so
- old. All these things reappearing before her seemed to widen out
- her life; it was like some sentimental immensity to which she
- returned; and from time to time she said in a low voice, her eyes
- half closed--</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, it is true--true--true!&quot;</p>
-<p>They heard eight strike on the different clocks of the
- Beauvoisine quarter, which is full of schools, churches, and
- large empty hotels. They no longer spoke, but they felt as they
- looked upon each other a buzzing in their heads, as if something
- sonorous had escaped from the fixed eyes of each of them. They
- were hand in hand now, and the past, the future, reminiscences
- and dreams, all were confounded in the sweetness of this ecstasy.
- Night was darkening over the walls, on which still shone, half
- hidden in the shade, the coarse colours of four bills
- representing four scenes from the &quot;Tour de Nesle,&quot; with a motto
- in Spanish and French at the bottom. Through the sash-window a
- patch of dark sky was seen between the pointed roofs.</p>
-<p>She rose to light two wax-candles on the drawers, then she sat
- down again.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well!&quot; said Leon.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well!&quot; she replied.</p>
-<p>He was thinking how to resume the interrupted conversation, when
- she said to him--</p>
-<p>&quot;How is it that no one until now has ever expressed such
- sentiments to me?&quot;</p>
-<p>The clerk said that ideal natures were difficult to understand.
- He from the first moment had loved her, and he despaired when he
- thought of the happiness that would have been theirs, if thanks
- to fortune, meeting her earlier, they had been indissolubly bound
- to one another.</p>
-<p>&quot;I have sometimes thought of it,&quot; she went on.</p>
-<p>&quot;What a dream!&quot; murmured Leon. And fingering gently the blue
- binding of her long white sash, he added, &quot;And who prevents us
- from beginning now?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No, my friend,&quot; she replied; &quot;I am too old; you are too young.
- Forget me! Others will love you; you will love them.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Not as you!&quot; he cried.</p>
-<p>&quot;What a child you are! Come, let us be sensible. I wish it.&quot;</p>
-<p>She showed him the impossibility of their love, and that they
- must remain, as formerly, on the simple terms of a fraternal
- friendship.</p>
-<p>Was she speaking thus seriously? No doubt Emma did not herself
- know, quite absorbed as she was by the charm of the seduction,
- and the necessity of defending herself from it; and contemplating
- the young man with a moved look, she gently repulsed the timid
- caresses that his trembling hands attempted.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! forgive me!&quot; he cried, drawing back.</p>
-<p>Emma was seized with a vague fear at this shyness, more dangerous
- to her than the boldness of Rodolphe when he advanced to her
- open-armed. No man had ever seemed to her so beautiful. An
- exquisite candour emanated from his being. He lowered his long
- fine eyelashes, that curled upwards. His cheek, with the soft
- skin reddened, she thought, with desire of her person, and Emma
- felt an invincible longing to press her lips to it. Then, leaning
- towards the clock as if to see the time--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! how late it is!&quot; she said; &quot;how we do chatter!&quot;</p>
-<p>He understood the hint and took up his hat.</p>
-<p>&quot;It has even made me forget the theatre. And poor Bovary has left
- me here especially for that. Monsieur Lormeaux, of the Rue
- Grand-Pont, was to take me and his wife.&quot;</p>
-<p>And the opportunity was lost, as she was to leave the next day.</p>
-<p>&quot;Really!&quot; said Leon.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But I must see you again,&quot; he went on. &quot;I wanted to tell you--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Something--important--serious. Oh, no! Besides, you will not go;
- it is impossible. If you should--listen to me. Then you have not
- understood me; you have not guessed--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yet you speak plainly,&quot; said Emma.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! you can jest. Enough! enough! Oh, for pity's sake, let me
- see you once--only once!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Well--&quot;She stopped; then, as if thinking better of it, &quot;Oh,
- not
- here!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Where you will.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Will you--&quot;She seemed to reflect; then abruptly, &quot;To-morrow
- at
- eleven o'clock in the cathedral.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I shall be there,&quot; he cried, seizing her hands, which she
- disengaged.</p>
-<p>And as they were both standing up, he behind her, and Emma with
- her head bent, he stooped over her and pressed long kisses on her
- neck.</p>
-<p>&quot;You are mad! Ah! you are mad!&quot; she said, with sounding little
- laughs, while the kisses multiplied.</p>
-<p>Then bending his head over her shoulder, he seemed to beg the
- consent of her eyes. They fell upon him full of an icy dignity.</p>
-<p>Leon stepped back to go out. He stopped on the threshold; then he
- whispered with a trembling voice, &quot;Tomorrow!&quot;</p>
-<p>She answered with a nod, and disappeared like a bird into the
- next room.</p>
-<p>In the evening Emma wrote the clerk an interminable letter, in
- which she cancelled the rendezvous; all was over; they must not,
- for the sake of their happiness, meet again. But when the letter
- was finished, as she did not know Leon's address, she was
- puzzled.</p>
-<p>&quot;I'll give it to him myself,&quot; she said; &quot;he will come.&quot;</p>
-<p>The next morning, at the open window, and humming on his balcony,
- Leon himself varnished his pumps with several coatings. He put on
- white trousers, fine socks, a green coat, emptied all the scent
- he had into his handkerchief, then having had his hair curled, he
- uncurled it again, in order to give it a more natural elegance.</p>
-<p>&quot;It is still too early,&quot; he thought, looking at the hairdresser's
- cuckoo-clock, that pointed to the hour of nine. He read an old
- fashion journal, went out, smoked a cigar, walked up three
- streets, thought it was time, and went slowly towards the porch
- of Notre Dame.</p>
-<p>It was a beautiful summer morning. Silver plate sparkled in the
- jeweller's windows, and the light falling obliquely on the
- cathedral made mirrors of the corners of the grey stones; a flock
- of birds fluttered in the grey sky round the trefoil
- bell-turrets; the square, resounding with cries, was fragrant
- with the flowers that bordered its pavement, roses, jasmines,
- pinks, narcissi, and tube-roses, unevenly spaced out between
- moist grasses, catmint, and chickweed for the birds; the
- fountains gurgled in the centre, and under large umbrellas,
- amidst melons, piled up in heaps, flower-women, bare-headed, were
- twisting paper round bunches of violets.</p>
-<p>The young man took one. It was the first time that he had bought
- flowers for a woman, and his breast, as he smelt them, swelled
- with pride, as if this homage that he meant for another had
- recoiled upon himself.</p>
-<p>But he was afraid of being seen; he resolutely entered the
- church. The beadle, who was just then standing on the threshold
- in the middle of the left doorway, under the &quot;Dancing Marianne,&quot;
- with feather cap, and rapier dangling against his calves, came
- in, more majestic than a cardinal, and as shining as a saint on a
- holy pyx.</p>
-<p>He came towards Leon, and, with that smile of wheedling benignity
- assumed by ecclesiastics when they question children--</p>
-<p>&quot;The gentleman, no doubt, does not belong to these parts? The
- gentleman would like to see the curiosities of the church?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No!&quot; said the other.</p>
-<p>And he first went round the lower aisles. Then he went out to
- look at the Place. Emma was not coming yet. He went up again to
- the choir.</p>
-<p>The nave was reflected in the full fonts with the beginning of
- the arches and some portions of the glass windows. But the
- reflections of the paintings, broken by the marble rim, were
- continued farther on upon the flag-stones, like a many-coloured
- carpet. The broad daylight from without streamed into the church
- in three enormous rays from the three opened portals. From time
- to time at the upper end a sacristan passed, making the oblique
- genuflexion of devout persons in a hurry. The crystal lustres
- hung motionless. In the choir a silver lamp was burning, and from
- the side chapels and dark places of the church sometimes rose
- sounds like sighs, with the clang of a closing grating, its echo
- reverberating under the lofty vault.</p>
-<p>Leon with solemn steps walked along by the walls. Life had never
- seemed so good to him. She would come directly, charming,
- agitated, looking back at the glances that followed her, and with
- her flounced dress, her gold eyeglass, her thin shoes, with all
- sorts of elegant trifles that he had never enjoyed, and with the
- ineffable seduction of yielding virtue. The church like a huge
- boudoir spread around her; the arches bent down to gather in the
- shade the confession of her love; the windows shone resplendent
- to illumine her face, and the censers would burn that she might
- appear like an angel amid the fumes of the sweet-smelling odours.</p>
-<p>But she did not come. He sat down on a chair, and his eyes fell
- upon a blue stained window representing boatmen carrying baskets.
- He looked at it long, attentively, and he counted the scales of
- the fishes and the button-holes of the doublets, while his
- thoughts wandered off towards Emma.</p>
-<p>The beadle, standing aloof, was inwardly angry at this individual
- who took the liberty of admiring the cathedral by himself. He
- seemed to him to be conducting himself in a monstrous fashion, to
- be robbing him in a sort, and almost committing sacrilege.</p>
-<p>But a rustle of silk on the flags, the tip of a bonnet, a lined
- cloak--it was she! Leon rose and ran to meet her.</p>
-<p>Emma was pale. She walked fast.</p>
-<p>&quot;Read!&quot; she said, holding out a paper to him. &quot;Oh, no!&quot;</p>
-<p>And she abruptly withdrew her hand to enter the chapel of the
- Virgin, where, kneeling on a chair, she began to pray.</p>
-<p>The young man was irritated at this bigot fancy; then he
- nevertheless experienced a certain charm in seeing her, in the
- middle of a rendezvous, thus lost in her devotions, like an
- Andalusian marchioness; then he grew bored, for she seemed never
- coming to an end.</p>
-<p>Emma prayed, or rather strove to pray, hoping that some sudden
- resolution might descend to her from heaven; and to draw down
- divine aid she filled full her eyes with the splendours of the
- tabernacle. She breathed in the perfumes of the full-blown
- flowers in the large vases, and listened to the stillness of the
- church, that only heightened the tumult of her heart.</p>
-<p>She rose, and they were about to leave, when the beadle came
- forward, hurriedly saying--</p>
-<p>&quot;Madame, no doubt, does not belong to these parts? Madame would
- like to see the curiosities of the church?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, no!&quot; cried the clerk.</p>
-<p>&quot;Why not?&quot; said she. For she clung with her expiring virtue to
- the Virgin, the sculptures, the tombs--anything.</p>
-<p>Then, in order to proceed &quot;by rule,&quot; the beadle conducted them
- right to the entrance near the square, where, pointing out with
- his cane a large circle of block-stones without inscription or
- carving--</p>
-<p>&quot;This,&quot; he said majestically, &quot;is the circumference of the
- beautiful bell of Ambroise. It weighed forty thousand pounds.
- There was not its equal in all Europe. The workman who cast it
- died of the joy--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Let us go on,&quot; said Leon.</p>
-<p>The old fellow started off again; then, having got back to the
- chapel of the Virgin, he stretched forth his arm with an
- all-embracing gesture of demonstration, and, prouder than a
- country squire showing you his espaliers, went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;This simple stone covers Pierre de Breze, lord of Varenne and of
- Brissac, grand marshal of Poitou, and governor of Normandy, who
- died at the battle of Montlhery on the 16th of July, 1465.&quot;</p>
-<p>Leon bit his lips, fuming.</p>
-<p>&quot;And on the right, this gentleman all encased in iron, on the
- prancing horse, is his grandson, Louis de Breze, lord of Breval
- and of Montchauvet, Count de Maulevrier, Baron de Mauny,
- chamberlain to the king, Knight of the Order, and also governor
- of Normandy; died on the 23rd of July, 1531--a Sunday, as the
- inscription specifies; and below, this figure, about to descend
- into the tomb, portrays the same person. It is not possible, is
- it, to see a more perfect representation of annihilation?&quot;</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary put up her eyeglasses. Leon, motionless, looked at
- her, no longer even attempting to speak a single word, to make a
- gesture, so discouraged was he at this two-fold obstinacy of
- gossip and indifference.</p>
-<p>The everlasting guide went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;Near him, this kneeling woman who weeps is his spouse, Diane de
- Poitiers, Countess de Breze, Duchess de Valentinois, born in
- 1499, died in 1566, and to the left, the one with the child is
- the Holy Virgin. Now turn to this side; here are the tombs of the
- Ambroise. They were both cardinals and archbishops of Rouen. That
- one was minister under Louis XII. He did a great deal for the
- cathedral. In his will he left thirty thousand gold crowns for
- the poor.&quot;</p>
-<p>And without stopping, still talking, he pushed them into a chapel
- full of balustrades, some put away, and disclosed a kind of block
- that certainly might once have been an ill-made statue.</p>
-<p>&quot;Truly,&quot; he said with a groan, &quot;it adorned the tomb of Richard
- Coeur de Lion, King of England and Duke of Normandy. It was the
- Calvinists, sir, who reduced it to this condition. They had
- buried it for spite in the earth, under the episcopal seat of
- Monsignor. See! this is the door by which Monsignor passes to his
- house. Let us pass on quickly to see the gargoyle windows.&quot;</p>
-<p>But Leon hastily took some silver from his pocket and seized
- Emma's arm. The beadle stood dumfounded, not able to understand
- this untimely munificence when there were still so many things
- for the stranger to see. So calling him back, he cried--</p>
-<p>&quot;Sir! sir! The steeple! the steeple!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No, thank you!&quot; said Leon.</p>
-<p>&quot;You are wrong, sir! It is four hundred and forty feet high, nine
- less than the great pyramid of Egypt. It is all cast; it--&quot;</p>
-<p>Leon was fleeing, for it seemed to him that his love, that for
- nearly two hours now had become petrified in the church like the
- stones, would vanish like a vapour through that sort of truncated
- funnel, of oblong cage, of open chimney that rises so grotesquely
- from the cathedral like the extravagant attempt of some fantastic
- brazier.</p>
-<p>&quot;But where are we going?&quot; she said.</p>
-<p>Making no answer, he walked on with a rapid step; and Madame
- Bovary was already, dipping her finger in the holy water when
- behind them they heard a panting breath interrupted by the
- regular sound of a cane. Leon turned back.</p>
-<p>&quot;Sir!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What is it?&quot;</p>
-<p>And he recognised the beadle, holding under his arms and
- balancing against his stomach some twenty large sewn volumes.
- They were works &quot;which treated of the cathedral.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Idiot!&quot; growled Leon, rushing out of the church.</p>
-<p>A lad was playing about the close.</p>
-<p>&quot;Go and get me a cab!&quot;</p>
-<p>The child bounded off like a ball by the Rue Quatre-Vents; then
- they were alone a few minutes, face to face, and a little
- embarrassed.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! Leon! Really--I don't know--if I ought,&quot; she whispered. Then
- with a more serious air, &quot;Do you know, it is very improper--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;How so?&quot; replied the clerk. &quot;It is done at Paris.&quot;</p>
-<p>And that, as an irresistible argument, decided her.</p>
-<p>Still the cab did not come. Leon was afraid she might go back
- into the church. At last the cab appeared.</p>
-<p>&quot;At all events, go out by the north porch,&quot; cried the beadle, who
- was left alone on the threshold, &quot;so as to see the Resurrection,
- the Last Judgment, Paradise, King David, and the Condemned in
- Hell-flames.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Where to, sir?&quot; asked the coachman.</p>
-<p>&quot;Where you like,&quot; said Leon, forcing Emma into the cab.</p>
-<p>And the lumbering machine set out. It went down the Rue
- Grand-Pont, crossed the Place des Arts, the Quai Napoleon, the
- Pont Neuf, and stopped short before the statue of Pierre
- Corneille.</p>
-<p>&quot;Go on,&quot; cried a voice that came from within.</p>
-<p>The cab went on again, and as soon as it reached the Carrefour
- Lafayette, set off down-hill, and entered the station at a
- gallop.</p>
-<p>&quot;No, straight on!&quot; cried the same voice.</p>
-<p>The cab came out by the gate, and soon having reached the Cours,
- trotted quietly beneath the elm-trees. The coachman wiped his
- brow, put his leather hat between his knees, and drove his
- carriage beyond the side alley by the meadow to the margin of the
- waters.</p>
-<p>It went along by the river, along the towing-path paved with
- sharp pebbles, and for a long while in the direction of Oyssel,
- beyond the isles.</p>
-<p>But suddenly it turned with a dash across Quatremares,
- Sotteville, La Grande-Chaussee, the Rue d'Elbeuf, and made its
- third halt in front of the Jardin des Plantes.</p>
-<p>&quot;Get on, will you?&quot; cried the voice more furiously.</p>
-<p>And at once resuming its course, it passed by Saint-Sever, by the
- Quai'des Curandiers, the Quai aux Meules, once more over the
- bridge, by the Place du Champ de Mars, and behind the hospital
- gardens, where old men in black coats were walking in the sun
- along the terrace all green with ivy. It went up the Boulevard
- Bouvreuil, along the Boulevard Cauchoise, then the whole of
- Mont-Riboudet to the Deville hills.</p>
-<p>It came back; and then, without any fixed plan or direction,
- wandered about at hazard. The cab was seen at Saint-Pol, at
- Lescure, at Mont Gargan, at La Rougue-Marc and Place du
- Gaillardbois; in the Rue Maladrerie, Rue Dinanderie, before
- Saint-Romain, Saint-Vivien, Saint-Maclou, Saint-Nicaise--in front
- of the Customs, at the &quot;Vieille Tour,&quot; the &quot;Trois Pipes,&quot;
- and the
- Monumental Cemetery. From time to time the coachman, on his box
- cast despairing eyes at the public-houses. He could not
- understand what furious desire for locomotion urged these
- individuals never to wish to stop. He tried to now and then, and
- at once exclamations of anger burst forth behind him. Then he
- lashed his perspiring jades afresh, but indifferent to their
- jolting, running up against things here and there, not caring if
- he did, demoralised, and almost weeping with thirst, fatigue, and
- depression.</p>
-<p>And on the harbour, in the midst of the drays and casks, and in
- the streets, at the corners, the good folk opened large
- wonder-stricken eyes at this sight, so extraordinary in the
- provinces, a cab with blinds drawn, and which appeared thus
- constantly shut more closely than a tomb, and tossing about like
- a vessel.</p>
-<p>Once in the middle of the day, in the open country, just as the
- sun beat most fiercely against the old plated lanterns, a bared
- hand passed beneath the small blinds of yellow canvas, and threw
- out some scraps of paper that scattered in the wind, and farther
- off lighted like white butterflies on a field of red clover all
- in bloom.</p>
-<p>At about six o'clock the carriage stopped in a back street of the
- Beauvoisine Quarter, and a woman got out, who walked with her
- veil down, and without turning her head.</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Two</h3>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p>On reaching the inn, Madame Bovary was surprised not to see the
- diligence. Hivert, who had waited for her fifty-three minutes,
- had at last started.</p>
-<p>Yet nothing forced her to go; but she had given her word that she would return
- that same evening. Moreover, Charles expected her, and in her heart she felt
- already that cowardly docility that is for some women at once the chastisement
- and atonement of adultery.</p>
-<p>She packed her box quickly, paid her bill, took a cab in the
- yard, hurrying on the driver, urging him on, every moment
- inquiring about the time and the miles traversed. He succeeded in
- catching up the &quot;Hirondelle&quot; as it neared the first houses of
- Quincampoix.</p>
-<p>Hardly was she seated in her corner than she closed her eyes, and
- opened them at the foot of the hill, when from afar she
- recognised Felicite, who was on the lookout in front of the
- farrier's shop. Hivert pulled in his horses and, the servant,
- climbing up to the window, said mysteriously--</p>
-<p>&quot;Madame, you must go at once to Monsieur Homais. It's for
- something important.&quot;</p>
-<p>The village was silent as usual. At the corner of the streets
- were small pink heaps that smoked in the air, for this was the
- time for jam-making, and everyone at Yonville prepared his supply
- on the same day. But in front of the chemist's shop one might
- admire a far larger heap, and that surpassed the others with the
- superiority that a laboratory must have over ordinary stores, a
- general need over individual fancy.</p>
-<p>She went in. The large arm-chair was upset, and even the &quot;Fanal
- de Rouen&quot; lay on the ground, outspread between two pestles. She
- pushed open the lobby door, and in the middle of the kitchen,
- amid brown jars full of picked currants, of powdered sugar and
- lump sugar, of the scales on the table, and of the pans on the
- fire, she saw all the Homais, small and large, with aprons
- reaching to their chins, and with forks in their hands. Justin
- was standing up with bowed head, and the chemist was screaming--</p>
-<p>&quot;Who told you to go and fetch it in the Capharnaum.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What is it? What is the matter?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What is it?&quot; replied the druggist. &quot;We are making preserves;
- they are simmering; but they were about to boil over, because
- there is too much juice, and I ordered another pan. Then he, from
- indolence, from laziness, went and took, hanging on its nail in
- my laboratory, the key of the Capharnaum.&quot;</p>
-<p>It was thus the druggist called a small room under the leads,
- full of the utensils and the goods of his trade. He often spent
- long hours there alone, labelling, decanting, and doing up again;
- and he looked upon it not as a simple store, but as a veritable
- sanctuary, whence there afterwards issued, elaborated by his
- hands, all sorts of pills, boluses, infusions, lotions, and
- potions, that would bear far and wide his celebrity. No one in
- the world set foot there, and he respected it so, that he swept
- it himself. Finally, if the pharmacy, open to all comers, was the
- spot where he displayed his pride, the Capharnaum was the refuge
- where, egoistically concentrating himself, Homais delighted in
- the exercise of his predilections, so that Justin's
- thoughtlessness seemed to him a monstrous piece of irreverence,
- and, redder than the currants, he repeated--</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, from the Capharnaum! The key that locks up the acids and
- caustic alkalies! To go and get a spare pan! a pan with a lid!
- and that I shall perhaps never use! Everything is of importance
- in the delicate operations of our art! But, devil take it! one
- must make distinctions, and not employ for almost domestic
- purposes that which is meant for pharmaceutical! It is as if one
- were to carve a fowl with a scalpel; as if a magistrate--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Now be calm,&quot; said Madame Homais.</p>
-<p>And Athalie, pulling at his coat, cried &quot;Papa! papa!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No, let me alone,&quot; went on the druggist &quot;let me alone, hang
- it!
- My word! One might as well set up for a grocer. That's it! go it!
- respect nothing! break, smash, let loose the leeches, burn the
- mallow-paste, pickle the gherkins in the window jars, tear up the
- bandages!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I thought you had--&quot;said Emma.</p>
-<p>&quot;Presently! Do you know to what you exposed yourself? Didn't you
- see anything in the corner, on the left, on the third shelf?
- Speak, answer, articulate something.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I--don't--know,&quot; stammered the young fellow.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! you don't know! Well, then, I do know! You saw a bottle of
- blue glass, sealed with yellow wax, that contains a white powder,
- on which I have even written 'Dangerous!' And do you know what is
- in it? Arsenic! And you go and touch it! You take a pan that was
- next to it!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Next to it!&quot; cried Madame Hoinais, clasping her hands. &quot;Arsenic!
- You might have poisoned us all.&quot;</p>
-<p>And the children began howling as if they already had frightful
- pains in their entrails.</p>
-<p>&quot;Or poison a patient!&quot; continued the druggist. &quot;Do you want
- to
- see me in the prisoner's dock with criminals, in a court of
- justice? To see me dragged to the scaffold? Don't you know what
- care I take in managing things, although I am so thoroughly used
- to it? Often I am horrified myself when I think of my
- responsibility; for the Government persecutes us, and the absurd
- legislation that rules us is a veritable Damocles' sword over our
- heads.&quot;</p>
-<p>Emma no longer dreamed of asking what they wanted her for, and
- the druggist went on in breathless phrases--</p>
-<p>&quot;That is your return for all the kindness we have shown you! That
- is how you recompense me for the really paternal care that I
- lavish on you! For without me where would you be? What would you
- be doing? Who provides you with food, education, clothes, and all
- the means of figuring one day with honour in the ranks of
- society? But you must pull hard at the oar if you're to do that,
- and get, as, people say, callosities upon your hands. Fabricando
- fit faber, age quod agis.*&quot;</p>
-<p>* The worker lives by working, do what he will.</p>
-<p>
- He was so exasperated he quoted Latin. He would have quoted
- Chinese or Greenlandish had he known those two languages, for he
- was in one of those crises in which the whole soul shows
- indistinctly what it contains, like the ocean, which, in the
- storm, opens itself from the seaweeds on its shores down to the
- sands of its abysses.</p>
-<p>And he went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;I am beginning to repent terribly of having taken you up! I
- should certainly have done better to have left you to rot in your
- poverty and the dirt in which you were born. Oh, you'll never be
- fit for anything but to herd animals with horns! You have no
- aptitude for science! You hardly know how to stick on a label!
- And there you are, dwelling with me snug as a parson, living in
- clover, taking your ease!&quot;</p>
-<p>But Emma, turning to Madame Homais, &quot;I was told to come here--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, dear me!&quot; interrupted the good woman, with a sad air, &quot;how
- am I to tell you? It is a misfortune!&quot;</p>
-<p>She could not finish, the druggist was thundering--&quot;Empty it!
- Clean it! Take it back! Be quick!&quot;</p>
-<p>And seizing Justin by the collar of his blouse, he shook a book
- out of his pocket. The lad stooped, but Homais was the quicker,
- and, having picked up the volume, contemplated it with staring
- eyes and open mouth.</p>
-<p>&quot;CONJUGAL--LOVE!&quot; he said, slowly separating the two words. &quot;Ah!
- very good! very good! very pretty! And illustrations! Oh, this is
- too much!&quot;</p>
-<p>Madame Homais came forward.</p>
-<p>&quot;No, do not touch it!&quot;</p>
-<p>The children wanted to look at the pictures.</p>
-<p>&quot;Leave the room,&quot; he said imperiously; and they went out.</p>
-<p>First he walked up and down with the open volume in his hand,
- rolling his eyes, choking, tumid, apoplectic. Then he came
- straight to his pupil, and, planting himself in front of him with
- crossed arms--</p>
-<p>&quot;Have you every vice, then, little wretch? Take care! you are on
- a downward path. Did not you reflect that this infamous book
- might fall in the hands of my children, kindle a spark in their
- minds, tarnish the purity of Athalie, corrupt Napoleon. He is
- already formed like a man. Are you quite sure, anyhow, that they
- have not read it? Can you certify to me--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But really, sir,&quot; said Emma, &quot;you wished to tell me--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah, yes! madame. Your father-in-law is dead.&quot;</p>
-<p>In fact, Monsieur Bovary senior had expired the evening before
- suddenly from an attack of apoplexy as he got up from table, and
- by way of greater precaution, on account of Emma's sensibility,
- Charles had begged Homais to break the horrible news to her
- gradually. Homais had thought over his speech; he had rounded,
- polished it, made it rhythmical; it was a masterpiece of prudence
- and transitions, of subtle turns and delicacy; but anger had got
- the better of rhetoric.</p>
-<p>Emma, giving up all chance of hearing any details, left the
- pharmacy; for Monsieur Homais had taken up the thread of his
- vituperations. However, he was growing calmer, and was now
- grumbling in a paternal tone whilst he fanned himself with his
- skull-cap.</p>
-<p>&quot;It is not that I entirely disapprove of the work. Its author was
- a doctor! There are certain scientific points in it that it is
- not ill a man should know, and I would even venture to say that a
- man must know. But later--later! At any rate, not till you are
- man yourself and your temperament is formed.&quot;</p>
-<p>When Emma knocked at the door. Charles, who was waiting for her,
- came forward with open arms and said to her with tears in his
- voice--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! my dear!&quot;</p>
-<p>And he bent over her gently to kiss her. But at the contact of
- his lips the memory of the other seized her, and she passed her
- hand over her face shuddering.</p>
-<p>But she made answer, &quot;Yes, I know, I know!&quot;</p>
-<p>He showed her the letter in which his mother told the event
- without any sentimental hypocrisy. She only regretted her husband
- had not received the consolations of religion, as he had died at
- Daudeville, in the street, at the door of a cafe after a
- patriotic dinner with some ex-officers.</p>
-<p>Emma gave him back the letter; then at dinner, for appearance's
- sake, she affected a certain repugnance. But as he urged her to
- try, she resolutely began eating, while Charles opposite her sat
- motionless in a dejected attitude.</p>
-<p>Now and then he raised his head and gave her a long look full of
- distress. Once he sighed, &quot;I should have liked to see him again!&quot;</p>
-<p>She was silent. At last, understanding that she must say
- something, &quot;How old was your father?&quot; she asked.</p>
-<p>&quot;Fifty-eight.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah!&quot;</p>
-<p>And that was all.</p>
-<p>A quarter of an hour after he added, &quot;My poor mother! what will
- become of her now?&quot;</p>
-<p>She made a gesture that signified she did not know. Seeing her so
- taciturn, Charles imagined her much affected, and forced himself
- to say nothing, not to reawaken this sorrow which moved him. And,
- shaking off his own--</p>
-<p>&quot;Did you enjoy yourself yesterday?&quot; he asked.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-<p>When the cloth was removed, Bovary did not rise, nor did Emma;
- and as she looked at him, the monotony of the spectacle drove
- little by little all pity from her heart. He seemed to her
- paltry, weak, a cipher--in a word, a poor thing in every way. How
- to get rid of him? What an interminable evening! Something
- stupefying like the fumes of opium seized her.</p>
-<p>They heard in the passage the sharp noise of a wooden leg on the
- boards. It was Hippolyte bringing back Emma's luggage. In order
- to put it down he described painfully a quarter of a circle with
- his stump.</p>
-<p>&quot;He doesn't even remember any more about it,&quot; she thought,
- looking at the poor devil, whose coarse red hair was wet with
- perspiration.</p>
-<p>Bovary was searching at the bottom of his purse for a centime,
- and without appearing to understand all there was of humiliation
- for him in the mere presence of this man, who stood there like a
- personified reproach to his incurable incapacity.</p>
-<p>&quot;Hallo! you've a pretty bouquet,&quot; he said, noticing Leon's
- violets on the chimney.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; she replied indifferently; &quot;it's a bouquet I bought just
- now from a beggar.&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles picked up the flowers, and freshening his eyes, red with
- tears, against them, smelt them delicately.</p>
-<p>She took them quickly from his hand and put them in a glass of
- water.</p>
-<p>The next day Madame Bovary senior arrived. She and her son wept
- much. Emma, on the pretext of giving orders, disappeared. The
- following day they had a talk over the mourning. They went and
- sat down with their workboxes by the waterside under the arbour.</p>
-<p>Charles was thinking of his father, and was surprised to feel so
- much affection for this man, whom till then he had thought he
- cared little about. Madame Bovary senior was thinking of her
- husband. The worst days of the past seemed enviable to her. All
- was forgotten beneath the instinctive regret of such a long
- habit, and from time to time whilst she sewed, a big tear rolled
- along her nose and hung suspended there a moment. Emma was
- thinking that it was scarcely forty-eight hours since they had
- been together, far from the world, all in a frenzy of joy, and
- not having eyes enough to gaze upon each other. She tried to
- recall the slightest details of that past day. But the presence
- of her husband and mother-in-law worried her. She would have
- liked to hear nothing, to see nothing, so as not to disturb the
- meditation on her love, that, do what she would, became lost in
- external sensations.</p>
-<p>She was unpicking the lining of a dress, and the strips were
- scattered around her. Madame Bovary senior was plying her scissor
- without looking up, and Charles, in his list slippers and his old
- brown surtout that he used as a dressing-gown, sat with both
- hands in his pockets, and did not speak either; near them Berthe,
- in a little white pinafore, was raking sand in the walks with her
- spade. Suddenly she saw Monsieur Lheureux, the linendraper, come
- in through the gate.</p>
-<p>He came to offer his services &quot;under the sad circumstances.&quot; Emma
- answered that she thought she could do without. The shopkeeper
- was not to be beaten.</p>
-<p>&quot;I beg your pardon,&quot; he said, &quot;but I should like to have a
- private talk with you.&quot; Then in a low voice, &quot;It's about that
- affair--you know.&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles crimsoned to his ears. &quot;Oh, yes! certainly.&quot; And in his
- confusion, turning to his wife, &quot;Couldn't you, my darling?&quot;</p>
-<p>She seemed to understand him, for she rose; and Charles said to
- his mother, &quot;It is nothing particular. No doubt, some household
- trifle.&quot; He did not want her to know the story of the bill,
- fearing her reproaches.</p>
-<p>As soon as they were alone, Monsieur Lheureux in sufficiently
- clear terms began to congratulate Emma on the inheritance, then
- to talk of indifferent matters, of the espaliers, of the harvest,
- and of his own health, which was always so-so, always having ups
- and downs. In fact, he had to work devilish hard, although he
- didn't make enough, in spite of all people said, to find butter
- for his bread.</p>
-<p>Emma let him talk on. She had bored herself so prodigiously the
- last two days.</p>
-<p>&quot;And so you're quite well again?&quot; he went on. &quot;Ma foi! I saw
- your
- husband in a sad state. He's a good fellow, though we did have a
- little misunderstanding.&quot;</p>
-<p>She asked what misunderstanding, for Charles had said nothing of
- the dispute about the goods supplied to her.</p>
-<p>&quot;Why, you know well enough,&quot; cried Lheureux. &quot;It was about your
- little fancies--the travelling trunks.&quot;</p>
-<p>He had drawn his hat over his eyes, and, with his hands behind
- his back, smiling and whistling, he looked straight at her in an
- unbearable manner. Did he suspect anything?</p>
-<p>She was lost in all kinds of apprehensions. At last, however, he
- went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;We made it up, all the same, and I've come again to propose
- another arrangement.&quot;</p>
-<p>This was to renew the bill Bovary had signed. The doctor, of
- course, would do as he pleased; he was not to trouble himself,
- especially just now, when he would have a lot of worry. &quot;And he
- would do better to give it over to someone else--to you, for
- example. With a power of attorney it could be easily managed, and
- then we (you and I) would have our little business transactions
- together.&quot;</p>
-<p>She did not understand. He was silent. Then, passing to his
- trade, Lheureux declared that madame must require something. He
- would send her a black barege, twelve yards, just enough to make
- a gown.</p>
-<p>&quot;The one you've on is good enough for the house, but you want
- another for calls. I saw that the very moment that I came in.
- I've the eye of an American!&quot;</p>
-<p>He did not send the stuff; he brought it. Then he came again to
- measure it; he came again on other pretexts, always trying to
- make himself agreeable, useful, &quot;enfeoffing himself,&quot; as Homais
- would have said, and always dropping some hint to Emma about the
- power of attorney. He never mentioned the bill; she did not think
- of it. Charles, at the beginning of her convalescence, had
- certainly said something about it to her, but so many emotions
- had passed through her head that she no longer remembered it.
- Besides, she took care not to talk of any money questions. Madame
- Bovary seemed surprised at this, and attributed the change in her
- ways to the religious sentiments she had contracted during her
- illness.</p>
-<p>But as soon as she was gone, Emma greatly astounded Bovary by her
- practical good sense. It would be necessary to make inquiries, to
- look into mortgages, and see if there were any occasion for a
- sale by auction or a liquidation. She quoted technical terms
- casually, pronounced the grand words of order, the future,
- foresight, and constantly exaggerated the difficulties of
- settling his father's affairs so much, that at last one day she
- showed him the rough draft of a power of attorney to manage and
- administer his business, arrange all loans, sign and endorse all
- bills, pay all sums, etc. She had profited by Lheureux's lessons.
- Charles naively asked her where this paper came from.</p>
-<p>&quot;Monsieur Guillaumin&quot;; and with the utmost coolness she added, &quot;I
- don't trust him overmuch. Notaries have such a bad reputation.
- Perhaps we ought to consult--we only know--no one.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Unless Leon--&quot; replied Charles, who was reflecting. But it was
- difficult to explain matters by letter. Then she offered to make
- the journey, but he thanked her. She insisted. It was quite a
- contest of mutual consideration. At last she cried with affected
- waywardness--</p>
-<p>&quot;No, I will go!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;How good you are!&quot; he said, kissing her forehead.</p>
-<p>The next morning she set out in the &quot;Hirondelle&quot; to go to Rouen to
- consult Monsieur Leon, and she stayed there three days.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Three</h3>
-<p>They were three full, exquisite days--a true honeymoon. They were
- at the Hotel-de-Boulogne, on the harbour; and they lived there,
- with drawn blinds and closed doors, with flowers on the floor,
- and iced syrups were brought them early in the morning.</p>
-<p>Towards evening they took a covered boat and went to dine on one of the islands.
- It was the time when one hears by the side of the dockyard the caulking-mallets
- sounding against the hull of vessels. The smoke of the tar rose up between the
- trees; there were large fatty drops on the water, undulating in the purple colour
- of the sun, like floating plaques of Florentine bronze.</p>
-<p>They rowed down in the midst of moored boats, whose long oblique
- cables grazed lightly against the bottom of the boat. The din of
- the town gradually grew distant; the rolling of carriages, the
- tumult of voices, the yelping of dogs on the decks of vessels.
- She took off her bonnet, and they landed on their island.</p>
-<p>They sat down in the low-ceilinged room of a tavern, at whose
- door hung black nets. They ate fried smelts, cream and cherries.
- They lay down upon the grass; they kissed behind the poplars; and
- they would fain, like two Robinsons, have lived for ever in this
- little place, which seemed to them in their beatitude the most
- magnificent on earth. It was not the first time that they had
- seen trees, a blue sky, meadows; that they had heard the water
- flowing and the wind blowing in the leaves; but, no doubt, they
- had never admired all this, as if Nature had not existed before,
- or had only begun to be beautiful since the gratification of
- their desires.</p>
-<p>At night they returned. The boat glided along the shores of the
- islands. They sat at the bottom, both hidden by the shade, in
- silence. The square oars rang in the iron thwarts, and, in the
- stillness, seemed to mark time, like the beating of a metronome,
- while at the stern the rudder that trailed behind never ceased
- its gentle splash against the water.</p>
-<p>Once the moon rose; they did not fail to make fine phrases,
- finding the orb melancholy and full of poetry. She even began to
- sing--</p>
-<p>&quot;One night, do you remember, we were sailing,&quot; etc.</p>
-<p>Her musical but weak voice died away along the waves, and the
- winds carried off the trills that Leon heard pass like the
- flapping of wings about him.</p>
-<p>She was opposite him, leaning against the partition of the
- shallop, through one of whose raised blinds the moon streamed in.
- Her black dress, whose drapery spread out like a fan, made her
- seem more slender, taller. Her head was raised, her hands
- clasped, her eyes turned towards heaven. At times the shadow of
- the willows hid her completely; then she reappeared suddenly,
- like a vision in the moonlight.</p>
-<p>Leon, on the floor by her side, found under his hand a ribbon of
- scarlet silk. The boatman looked at it, and at last said--</p>
-<p>&quot;Perhaps it belongs to the party I took out the other day. A lot
- of jolly folk, gentlemen and ladies, with cakes, champagne,
- cornets--everything in style! There was one especially, a tall
- handsome man with small moustaches, who was that funny! And they
- all kept saying, 'Now tell us something, Adolphe--Dolpe,' I
- think.&quot;</p>
-<p>She shivered.</p>
-<p>&quot;You are in pain?&quot; asked Leon, coming closer to her.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, it's nothing! No doubt, it is only the night air.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;And who doesn't want for women, either,&quot; softly added the
- sailor, thinking he was paying the stranger a compliment.</p>
-<p>Then, spitting on his hands, he took the oars again.</p>
-<p>Yet they had to part. The adieux were sad. He was to send his
- letters to Mere Rollet, and she gave him such precise
- instructions about a double envelope that he admired greatly her
- amorous astuteness.</p>
-<p>&quot;So you can assure me it is all right?&quot; she said with her last
- kiss.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, certainly.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But why,&quot; he thought afterwards as he came back through the streets
- alone, &quot;is she so very anxious to get this power of attorney?&quot;</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Four</h3>
-<p>Leon soon put on an air of superiority before his comrades,
- avoided their company, and completely neglected his work.</p>
-<p>He waited for her letters; he re-read them; he wrote to her. He called her
- to mind with all the strength of his desires and of his memories. Instead of
- lessening with absence, this longing to see her again grew, so that at last
- on Saturday morning he escaped from his office. </p>
-<p>When, from the summit of the hill, he saw in the valley below the
- church-spire with its tin flag swinging in the wind, he felt that
- delight mingled with triumphant vanity and egoistic tenderness
- that millionaires must experience when they come back to their
- native village.</p>
-<p>He went rambling round her house. A light was burning in the
- kitchen. He watched for her shadow behind the curtains, but
- nothing appeared.</p>
-<p>Mere Lefrancois, when she saw him, uttered many exclamations. She
- thought he &quot;had grown and was thinner,&quot; while Artemise, on the
- contrary, thought him stouter and darker.</p>
-<p>He dined in the little room as of yore, but alone, without the
- tax-gatherer; for Binet, tired of waiting for the &quot;Hirondelle,&quot;
- had definitely put forward his meal one hour, and now he dined
- punctually at five, and yet he declared usually the rickety old
- concern &quot;was late.&quot;</p>
-<p>Leon, however, made up his mind, and knocked at the doctor's
- door. Madame was in her room, and did not come down for a quarter
- of an hour. The doctor seemed delighted to see him, but he never
- stirred out that evening, nor all the next day.</p>
-<p>He saw her alone in the evening, very late, behind the garden in
- the lane; in the lane, as she had the other one! It was a stormy
- night, and they talked under an umbrella by lightning flashes.</p>
-<p>Their separation was becoming intolerable. &quot;I would rather die!&quot;
- said Emma. She was writhing in his arms, weeping. &quot;Adieu! adieu!
- When shall I see you again?&quot;</p>
-<p>They came back again to embrace once more, and it was then that
- she promised him to find soon, by no matter what means, a regular
- opportunity for seeing one another in freedom at least once a
- week. Emma never doubted she should be able to do this. Besides,
- she was full of hope. Some money was coming to her.</p>
-<p>On the strength of it she bought a pair of yellow curtains with
- large stripes for her room, whose cheapness Monsieur Lheureux had
- commended; she dreamed of getting a carpet, and Lheureux,
- declaring that it wasn't &quot;drinking the sea,&quot; politely undertook
- to supply her with one. She could no longer do without his
- services. Twenty times a day she sent for him, and he at once put
- by his business without a murmur. People could not understand
- either why Mere Rollet breakfasted with her every day, and even
- paid her private visits.</p>
-<p>It was about this time, that is to say, the beginning of winter,
- that she seemed seized with great musical fervour.</p>
-<p>One evening when Charles was listening to her, she began the same
- piece four times over, each time with much vexation, while he,
- not noticing any difference, cried--</p>
-<p>&quot;Bravo! very goodl You are wrong to stop. Go on!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, no; it is execrable! My fingers are quite rusty.&quot;</p>
-<p>The next day he begged her to play him something again.</p>
-<p>&quot;Very well; to please you!&quot;</p>
-<p>And Charles confessed she had gone off a little. She played wrong
- notes and blundered; then, stopping short--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! it is no use. I ought to take some lessons; but--&quot; She bit
- her lips and added, &quot;Twenty francs a lesson, that's too dear!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, so it is--rather,&quot; said Charles, giggling stupidly. &quot;But
- it
- seems to me that one might be able to do it for less; for there
- are artists of no reputation, and who are often better than the
- celebrities.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Find them!&quot; said Emma.</p>
-<p>The next day when he came home he looked at her shyly, and at
- last could no longer keep back the words.</p>
-<p>&quot;How obstinate you are sometimes! I went to Barfucheres to-day.
- Well, Madame Liegard assured me that her three young ladies who
- are at La Misericorde have lessons at fifty sous apiece, and that
- from an excellent mistress!&quot;</p>
-<p>She shrugged her shoulders and did not open her piano again. But
- when she passed by it (if Bovary were there), she sighed--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! my poor piano!&quot;</p>
-<p>And when anyone came to see her, she did not fail to inform them
- she had given up music, and could not begin again now for
- important reasons. Then people commiserated her--</p>
-<p>&quot;What a pity! she had so much talent!&quot;</p>
-<p>They even spoke to Bovary about it. They put him to shame, and
- especially the chemist.</p>
-<p>&quot;You are wrong. One should never let any of the faculties of
- nature lie fallow. Besides, just think, my good friend, that by
- inducing madame to study; you are economising on the subsequent
- musical education of your child. For my own part, I think that
- mothers ought themselves to instruct their children. That is an
- idea of Rousseau's, still rather new perhaps, but that will end
- by triumphing, I am certain of it, like mothers nursing their own
- children and vaccination.&quot;</p>
-<p>So Charles returned once more to this question of the piano. Emma
- replied bitterly that it would be better to sell it. This poor
- piano, that had given her vanity so much satisfaction--to see it
- go was to Bovary like the indefinable suicide of a part of
- herself.</p>
-<p>&quot;If you liked,&quot; he said, &quot;a lesson from time to time, that
- wouldn't after all be very ruinous.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But lessons,&quot; she replied, &quot;are only of use when followed up.&quot;</p>
-<p>And thus it was she set about obtaining her husband's permission to go to town
- once a week to see her lover. At the end of a month she was even considered
- to have made considerable progress.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Five</h3>
-<p>She went on Thursdays. She got up and dressed silently, in order not to awaken
- Charles, who would have made remarks about her getting ready too early. Next
- she walked up and down, went to the windows, and looked out at the Place. The
- early dawn was broadening between the pillars of the market, and the chemist's
- shop, with the shutters still up, showed in the pale light of the dawn the large
- letters of his signboard. </p>
-<p>When the clock pointed to a quarter past seven, she went off to
- the &quot;Lion d'Or,&quot; whose door Artemise opened yawning. The girl
- then made up the coals covered by the cinders, and Emma remained
- alone in the kitchen. Now and again she went out. Hivert was
- leisurely harnessing his horses, listening, moreover, to Mere
- Lefrancois, who, passing her head and nightcap through a grating,
- was charging him with commissions and giving him explanations
- that would have confused anyone else. Emma kept beating the soles
- of her boots against the pavement of the yard.</p>
-<p>At last, when he had eaten his soup, put on his cloak, lighted
- his pipe, and grasped his whip, he calmly installed himself on
- his seat.</p>
-<p>The &quot;Hirondelle&quot; started at a slow trot, and for about a mile
- stopped here and there to pick up passengers who waited for it,
- standing at the border of the road, in front of their yard gates.</p>
-<p>Those who had secured seats the evening before kept it waiting;
- some even were still in bed in their houses. Hivert called,
- shouted, swore; then he got down from his seat and went and
- knocked loudly at the doors. The wind blew through the cracked
- windows.</p>
-<p>The four seats, however, filled up. The carriage rolled off; rows
- of apple-trees followed one upon another, and the road between
- its two long ditches, full of yellow water, rose, constantly
- narrowing towards the horizon.</p>
-<p>Emma knew it from end to end; she knew that after a meadow there
- was a sign-post, next an elm, a barn, or the hut of a lime-kiln
- tender. Sometimes even, in the hope of getting some surprise, she
- shut her eyes, but she never lost the clear perception of the
- distance to be traversed.</p>
-<p>At last the brick houses began to follow one another more
- closely, the earth resounded beneath the wheels, the &quot;Hirondelle&quot;
- glided between the gardens, where through an opening one saw
- statues, a periwinkle plant, clipped yews, and a swing. Then on a
- sudden the town appeared. Sloping down like an amphitheatre, and
- drowned in the fog, it widened out beyond the bridges confusedly.
- Then the open country spread away with a monotonous movement till
- it touched in the distance the vague line of the pale sky. Seen
- thus from above, the whole landscape looked immovable as a
- picture; the anchored ships were massed in one corner, the river
- curved round the foot of the green hills, and the isles, oblique
- in shape, lay on the water, like large, motionless, black fishes.
- The factory chimneys belched forth immense brown fumes that were
- blown away at the top. One heard the rumbling of the foundries,
- together with the clear chimes of the churches that stood out in
- the mist. The leafless trees on the boulevards made violet
- thickets in the midst of the houses, and the roofs, all shining
- with the rain, threw back unequal reflections, according to the
- height of the quarters in which they were. Sometimes a gust of
- wind drove the clouds towards the Saint Catherine hills, like
- aerial waves that broke silently against a cliff.</p>
-<p>A giddiness seemed to her to detach itself from this mass of
- existence, and her heart swelled as if the hundred and twenty
- thousand souls that palpitated there had all at once sent into it
- the vapour of the passions she fancied theirs. Her love grew in
- the presence of this vastness, and expanded with tumult to the
- vague murmurings that rose towards her. She poured it out upon
- the square, on the walks, on the streets, and the old Norman city
- outspread before her eyes as an enormous capital, as a Babylon
- into which she was entering. She leant with both hands against
- the window, drinking in the breeze; the three horses galloped,
- the stones grated in the mud, the diligence rocked, and Hivert,
- from afar, hailed the carts on the road, while the bourgeois who
- had spent the night at the Guillaume woods came quietly down the
- hill in their little family carriages.</p>
-<p>They stopped at the barrier; Emma undid her overshoes, put on
- other gloves, rearranged her shawl, and some twenty paces farther
- she got down from the &quot;Hirondelle.&quot;</p>
-<p>The town was then awakening. Shop-boys in caps were cleaning up
- the shop-fronts, and women with baskets against their hips, at
- intervals uttered sonorous cries at the corners of streets. She
- walked with downcast eyes, close to the walls, and smiling with
- pleasure under her lowered black veil.</p>
-<p>For fear of being seen, she did not usually take the most direct
- road. She plunged into dark alleys, and, all perspiring, reached
- the bottom of the Rue Nationale, near the fountain that stands
- there. It, is the quarter for theatres, public-houses, and
- whores. Often a cart would pass near her, bearing some shaking
- scenery. Waiters in aprons were sprinkling sand on the flagstones
- between green shrubs. It all smelt of absinthe, cigars, and
- oysters.</p>
-<p>She turned down a street; she recognised him by his curling hair
- that escaped from beneath his hat.</p>
-<p>Leon walked along the pavement. She followed him to the hotel. He
- went up, opened the door, entered--What an embrace!</p>
-<p>Then, after the kisses, the words gushed forth. They told each
- other the sorrows of the week, the presentiments, the anxiety for
- the letters; but now everything was forgotten; they gazed into
- each other's faces with voluptuous laughs, and tender names.</p>
-<p>The bed was large, of mahogany, in the shape of a boat. The
- curtains were in red levantine, that hung from the ceiling and
- bulged out too much towards the bell-shaped bedside; and nothing
- in the world was so lovely as her brown head and white skin
- standing out against this purple colour, when, with a movement of
- shame, she crossed her bare arms, hiding her face in her hands.</p>
-<p>The warm room, with its discreet carpet, its gay ornaments, and
- its calm light, seemed made for the intimacies of passion. The
- curtain-rods, ending in arrows, their brass pegs, and the great
- balls of the fire-dogs shone suddenly when the sun came in. On
- the chimney between the candelabra there were two of those pink
- shells in which one hears the murmur of the sea if one holds them
- to the ear.</p>
-<p>How they loved that dear room, so full of gaiety, despite its
- rather faded splendour! They always found the furniture in the
- same place, and sometimes hairpins, that she had forgotten the
- Thursday before, under the pedestal of the clock. They lunched by
- the fireside on a little round table, inlaid with rosewood. Emma
- carved, put bits on his plate with all sorts of coquettish ways,
- and she laughed with a sonorous and libertine laugh when the
- froth of the champagne ran over from the glass to the rings on
- her fingers. They were so completely lost in the possession of
- each other that they thought themselves in their own house, and
- that they would live there till death, like two spouses eternally
- young. They said &quot;our room,&quot; &quot;our carpet,&quot; she even said
- &quot;my
- slippers,&quot; a gift of Leon's, a whim she had had. They were pink
- satin, bordered with swansdown. When she sat on his knees, her
- leg, then too short, hung in the air, and the dainty shoe, that
- had no back to it, was held only by the toes to her bare foot.</p>
-<p>He for the first time enjoyed the inexpressible delicacy of
- feminine refinements. He had never met this grace of language,
- this reserve of clothing, these poses of the weary dove. He
- admired the exaltation of her soul and the lace on her petticoat.
- Besides, was she not &quot;a lady&quot; and a married woman--a real
- mistress, in fine?</p>
-<p>By the diversity of her humour, in turn mystical or mirthful,
- talkative, taciturn, passionate, careless, she awakened in him a
- thousand desires, called up instincts or memories. She was the
- mistress of all the novels, the heroine of all the dramas, the
- vague &quot;she&quot; of all the volumes of verse. He found again on her
- shoulder the amber colouring of the &quot;Odalisque Bathing&quot;; she had
- the long waist of feudal chatelaines, and she resembled the &quot;Pale
- Woman of Barcelona.&quot; But above all she was the Angel!</p>
-<p>Often looking at her, it seemed to him that his soul, escaping
- towards her, spread like a wave about the outline of her head,
- and descended drawn down into the whiteness of her breast. He
- knelt on the ground before her, and with both elbows on her knees
- looked at her with a smile, his face upturned.</p>
-<p>She bent over him, and murmured, as if choking with intoxication--</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, do not move! do not speak! look at me! Something so sweet
- comes from your eyes that helps me so much!&quot;</p>
-<p>She called him &quot;child.&quot; &quot;Child, do you love me?&quot;</p>
-<p>And she did not listen for his answer in the haste of her lips
- that fastened to his mouth.</p>
-<p>On the clock there was a bronze cupid, who smirked as he bent his
- arm beneath a golden garland. They had laughed at it many a time,
- but when they had to part everything seemed serious to them.</p>
-<p>Motionless in front of each other, they kept repeating, &quot;Till
- Thursday, till Thursday.&quot;</p>
-<p>Suddenly she seized his head between her hands, kissed him
- hurriedly on the forehead, crying, &quot;Adieu!&quot; and rushed down the
- stairs.</p>
-<p>She went to a hairdresser's in the Rue de la Comedie to have her
- hair arranged. Night fell; the gas was lighted in the shop. She
- heard the bell at the theatre calling the mummers to the
- performance, and she saw, passing opposite, men with white faces
- and women in faded gowns going in at the stage-door.</p>
-<p>It was hot in the room, small, and too low where the stove was
- hissing in the midst of wigs and pomades. The smell of the tongs,
- together with the greasy hands that handled her head, soon
- stunned her, and she dozed a little in her wrapper. Often, as he
- did her hair, the man offered her tickets for a masked ball.</p>
-<p>Then she went away. She went up the streets; reached the
- Croix-Rouge, put on her overshoes, that she had hidden in the
- morning under the seat, and sank into her place among the
- impatient passengers. Some got out at the foot of the hill. She
- remained alone in the carriage. At every turning all the lights
- of the town were seen more and more completely, making a great
- luminous vapour about the dim houses. Emma knelt on the cushions
- and her eyes wandered over the dazzling light. She sobbed; called
- on Leon, sent him tender words and kisses lost in the wind.</p>
-<p>On the hillside a poor devil wandered about with his stick in the
- midst of the diligences. A mass of rags covered his shoulders,
- and an old staved-in beaver, turned out like a basin, hid his
- face; but when he took it off he discovered in the place of
- eyelids empty and bloody orbits. The flesh hung in red shreds,
- and there flowed from it liquids that congealed into green scale
- down to the nose, whose black nostrils sniffed convulsively. To
- speak to you he threw back his head with an idiotic laugh; then
- his bluish eyeballs, rolling constantly, at the temples beat
- against the edge of the open wound. He sang a little song as he
- followed the carriages--</p>
-<p>&quot;Maids an the warmth of a summer day
- Dream of love, and of love always&quot;</p>
-<p>And all the rest was about birds and sunshine and green leaves.</p>
-<p>Sometimes he appeared suddenly behind Emma, bareheaded, and she
- drew back with a cry. Hivert made fun of him. He would advise him
- to get a booth at the Saint Romain fair, or else ask him,
- laughing, how his young woman was.</p>
-<p>Often they had started when, with a sudden movement, his hat
- entered the diligence through the small window, while he clung
- with his other arm to the footboard, between the wheels splashing
- mud. His voice, feeble at first and quavering, grew sharp; it
- resounded in the night like the indistinct moan of a vague
- distress; and through the ringing of the bells, the murmur of the
- trees, and the rumbling of the empty vehicle, it had a far-off
- sound that disturbed Emma. It went to the bottom of her soul,
- like a whirlwind in an abyss, and carried her away into the
- distances of a boundless melancholy. But Hivert, noticing a
- weight behind, gave the blind man sharp cuts with his whip. The
- thong lashed his wounds, and he fell back into the mud with a
- yell. Then the, passengers in the &quot;Hirondelle&quot; ended by falling
- asleep, some with open mouths, others with lowered chins, leaning
- against their neighbour's shoulder, or with their arm passed
- through the strap, oscillating regularly with the jolting of the
- carriage; and the reflection of the lantern swinging without, on
- the crupper of the wheeler; penetrating into the interior through
- the chocolate calico curtains, threw sanguineous shadows over all
- these motionless people. Emma, drunk with grief, shivered in her
- clothes, feeling her feet grow colder and colder, and death in
- her soul.</p>
-<p>Charles at home was waiting for her; the &quot;Hirondelle&quot; was always
- late on Thursdays. Madame arrived at last, and scarcely kissed
- the child. The dinner was not ready. No matter! She excused the
- servant. This girl now seemed allowed to do just as she liked.</p>
-<p>Often her husband, noting her pallor, asked if she were unwell.</p>
-<p>&quot;No,&quot; said Emma.</p>
-<p>&quot;But,&quot; he replied, &quot;you seem so strange this evening.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, it's nothing! nothing!&quot;</p>
-<p>There were even days when she had no sooner come in than she went
- up to her room; and Justin, happening to be there, moved about
- noiselessly, quicker at helping her than the best of maids. He
- put the matches ready, the candlestick, a book, arranged her
- nightgown, turned back the bedclothes.</p>
-<p>&quot;Come!&quot; said she, &quot;that will do. Now you can go.&quot;</p>
-<p>For he stood there, his hands hanging down and his eyes wide
- open, as if enmeshed in the innumerable threads of a sudden
- reverie.</p>
-<p>The following day was frightful, and those that came after still
- more unbearable, because of her impatience to once again seize
- her happiness; an ardent lust, inflamed by the images of past
- experience, and that burst forth freely on the seventh day
- beneath Leon's caresses. His ardours were hidden beneath
- outbursts of wonder and gratitude. Emma tasted this love in a
- discreet, absorbed fashion, maintained it by all the artifices of
- her tenderness, and trembled a little lest it should be lost
- later on.</p>
-<p>She often said to him, with her sweet, melancholy voice--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! you too, you will leave me! You will marry! You will be like
- all the others.&quot;</p>
-<p>He asked, &quot;What others?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why, like all men,&quot; she replied. Then added, repulsing him with
- a languid movement--</p>
-<p>&quot;You are all evil!&quot;</p>
-<p>One day, as they were talking philosophically of earthly
- disillusions, to experiment on his jealousy, or yielding,
- perhaps, to an over-strong need to pour out her heart, she told
- him that formerly, before him, she had loved someone.</p>
-<p>&quot;Not like you,&quot; she went on quickly, protesting by the head of
- her child that &quot;nothing had passed between them.&quot;</p>
-<p>The young man believed her, but none the less questioned her to
- find out what he was.</p>
-<p>&quot;He was a ship's captain, my dear.&quot;</p>
-<p>Was this not preventing any inquiry, and, at the same time,
- assuming a higher ground through this pretended fascination
- exercised over a man who must have been of warlike nature and
- accustomed to receive homage?</p>
-<p>The clerk then felt the lowliness of his position; he longed for
- epaulettes, crosses, titles. All that would please her--he
- gathered that from her spendthrift habits.</p>
-<p>Emma nevertheless concealed many of these extravagant fancies,
- such as her wish to have a blue tilbury to drive into Rouen,
- drawn by an English horse and driven by a groom in top-boots. It
- was Justin who had inspired her with this whim, by begging her to
- take him into her service as valet-de-chambre*, and if the
- privation of it did not lessen the pleasure of her arrival at
- each rendezvous, it certainly augmented the bitterness of the
- return.</p>
-<p>* Manservant.</p>
-<p>
- Often, when they talked together of Paris, she ended by
- murmuring, &quot;Ah! how happy we should be there!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Are we not happy?&quot; gently answered the young man passing his
- hands over her hair.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, that is true,&quot; she said. &quot;I am mad. Kiss me!&quot;</p>
-<p>To her husband she was more charming than ever. She made him
- pistachio-creams, and played him waltzes after dinner. So he
- thought himself the most fortunate of men and Emma was without
- uneasiness, when, one evening suddenly he said--</p>
-<p>&quot;It is Mademoiselle Lempereur, isn't it, who gives you lessons?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, I saw her just now,&quot; Charles went on, &quot;at Madame
- Liegeard's. I spoke to her about you, and she doesn't know you.&quot;</p>
-<p>This was like a thunderclap. However, she replied quite
- naturally--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! no doubt she forgot my name.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But perhaps,&quot; said the doctor, &quot;there are several Demoiselles
- Lempereur at Rouen who are music-mistresses.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Possibly!&quot; Then quickly--&quot;But I have my receipts here. See!&quot;</p>
-<p>And she went to the writing-table, ransacked all the drawers,
- rummaged the papers, and at last lost her head so completely that
- Charles earnestly begged her not to take so much trouble about
- those wretched receipts.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, I will find them,&quot; she said.</p>
-<p>And, in fact, on the following Friday, as Charles was putting on
- one of his boots in the dark cabinet where his clothes were kept,
- he felt a piece of paper between the leather and his sock. He
- took it out and read--</p>
-<p>&quot;Received, for three months' lessons and several pieces of music,
- the sum of sixty-three francs.--Felicie Lempereur, professor of
- music.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;How the devil did it get into my boots?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;It must,&quot; she replied, &quot;have fallen from the old box of bills
- that is on the edge of the shelf.&quot;</p>
-<p>From that moment her existence was but one long tissue of lies,
- in which she enveloped her love as in veils to hide it. It was a
- want, a mania, a pleasure carried to such an extent that if she
- said she had the day before walked on the right side of a road,
- one might know she had taken the left.</p>
-<p>One morning, when she had gone, as usual, rather lightly clothed,
- it suddenly began to snow, and as Charles was watching the
- weather from the window, he caught sight of Monsieur Bournisien
- in the chaise of Monsieur Tuvache, who was driving him to Rouen.
- Then he went down to give the priesta thick shawl that he was to
- hand over to Emma as soon as he reached the &quot;Croix-Rouge.&quot; When
- he got to the inn, Monsieur Bournisien asked for the wife of the
- Yonville doctor. The landlady replied that she very rarely came
- to her establishment. So that evening, when he recognised Madame
- Bovary in the &quot;Hirondelle,&quot; the cure told her his dilemma,
- without, however, appearing to attach much importance to it, for
- he began praising a preacher who was doing wonders at the
- Cathedral, and whom all the ladies were rushing to hear.</p>
-<p>Still, if he did not ask for any explanation, others, later on,
- might prove less discreet. So she thought well to get down each
- time at the &quot;Croix-Rouge,&quot; so that the good folk of her village
- who saw her on the stairs should suspect nothing.</p>
-<p>One day, however, Monsieur Lheureux met her coming out of the
- Hotel de Boulogne on Leon's arm; and she was frightened, thinking
- he would gossip. He was not such a fool. But three days after he
- came to her room, shut the door, and said, &quot;I must have some
- money.&quot;</p>
-<p>She declared she could not give him any. Lheureux burst into
- lamentations and reminded her of all the kindnesses he had shown
- her.</p>
-<p>In fact, of the two bills signed by Charles, Emma up to the
- present had paid only one. As to the second, the shopkeeper, at
- her request, had consented to replace it by another, which again
- had been renewed for a long date. Then he drew from his pocket a
- list of goods not paid for; to wit, the curtains, the carpet, the
- material for the armchairs, several dresses, and divers articles
- of dress, the bills for which amounted to about two thousand
- francs.</p>
-<p>She bowed her head. He went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;But if you haven't any ready money, you have an estate.&quot; And he
- reminded her of a miserable little hovel situated at Barneville,
- near Aumale, that brought in almost nothing. It had formerly been
- part of a small farm sold by Monsieur Bovary senior; for Lheureux
- knew everything, even to the number of acres and the names of the
- neighbours.</p>
-<p>&quot;If I were in your place,&quot; he said, &quot;I should clear myself of
- my
- debts, and have money left over.&quot;</p>
-<p>She pointed out the difficulty of getting a purchaser. He held
- out the hope of finding one; but she asked him how she should
- manage to sell it.</p>
-<p>&quot;Haven't you your power of attorney?&quot; he replied.</p>
-<p>The phrase came to her like a breath of fresh air. &quot;Leave me the
- bill,&quot; said Emma.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, it isn't worth while,&quot; answered Lheureux.</p>
-<p>He came back the following week and boasted of having, after much
- trouble, at last discovered a certain Langlois, who, for a long
- time, had had an eye on the property, but without mentioning his
- price.</p>
-<p>&quot;Never mind the price!&quot; she cried.</p>
-<p>But they would, on the contrary, have to wait, to sound the
- fellow. The thing was worth a journey, and, as she could not
- undertake it, he offered to go to the place to have an interview
- with Langlois. On his return he announced that the purchaser
- proposed four thousand francs.</p>
-<p>Emma was radiant at this news.</p>
-<p>&quot;Frankly,&quot; he added, &quot;that's a good price.&quot;</p>
-<p>She drew half the sum at once, and when she was about to pay her
- account the shopkeeper said--</p>
-<p>&quot;It really grieves me, on my word! to see you depriving yourself
- all at once of such a big sum as that.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then she looked at the bank-notes, and dreaming of the unlimited
- number of rendezvous represented by those two thousand francs,
- she stammered--</p>
-<p>&quot;What! what!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh!&quot; he went on, laughing good-naturedly, &quot;one puts anything
- one
- likes on receipts. Don't you think I know what household affairs
- are?&quot; And he looked at her fixedly, while in his hand he held two
- long papers that he slid between his nails. At last, opening his
- pocket-book, he spread out on the table four bills to order, each
- for a thousand francs.</p>
-<p>&quot;Sign these,&quot; he said, &quot;and keep it all!&quot;</p>
-<p>She cried out, scandalised.</p>
-<p>&quot;But if I give you the surplus,&quot; replied Monsieur Lheureux
- impudently, &quot;is that not helping you?&quot;</p>
-<p>And taking a pen he wrote at the bottom of the account, &quot;Received
- of Madame Bovary four thousand francs.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Now who can trouble you, since in six months you'll draw the
- arrears for your cottage, and I don't make the last bill due till
- after you've been paid?&quot;</p>
-<p>Emma grew rather confused in her calculations, and her ears
- tingled as if gold pieces, bursting from their bags, rang all
- round her on the floor. At last Lheureux explained that he had a
- very good friend, Vincart, a broker at Rouen, who would discount
- these four bills. Then he himself would hand over to madame the
- remainder after the actual debt was paid.</p>
-<p>But instead of two thousand francs he brought only eighteen
- hundred, for the friend Vincart (which was only fair) had
- deducted two hundred francs for commission and discount. Then he
- carelessly asked for a receipt.</p>
-<p>&quot;You understand--in business--sometimes. And with the date, if
- you please, with the date.&quot;</p>
-<p>A horizon of realisable whims opened out before Emma. She was
- prudent enough to lay by a thousand crowns, with which the first
- three bills were paid when they fell due; but the fourth, by
- chance, came to the house on a Thursday, and Charles, quite
- upset, patiently awaited his wife's return for an explanation.</p>
-<p>If she had not told him about this bill, it was only to spare him
- such domestic worries; she sat on his knees, caressed him, cooed
- to him, gave him a long enumeration of all the indispensable
- things that had been got on credit.</p>
-<p>&quot;Really, you must confess, considering the quantity, it isn't too
- dear.&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles, at his wit's end, soon had recourse to the eternal
- Lheureux, who swore he would arrange matters if the doctor would
- sign him two bills, one of which was for seven hundred francs,
- payable in three months. In order to arrange for this he wrote
- his mother a pathetic letter. Instead of sending a reply she came
- herself; and when Emma wanted to know whether he had got anything
- out of her, &quot;Yes,&quot; he replied; &quot;but she wants to see the
- account.&quot; The next morning at daybreak Emma ran to Lheureux to
- beg him to make out another account for not more than a thousand
- francs, for to show the one for four thousand it would be
- necessary to say that she had paid two-thirds, and confess,
- consequently, the sale of the estate--a negotiation admirably
- carried out by the shopkeeper, and which, in fact, was only
- actually known later on.</p>
-<p>Despite the low price of each article, Madame Bovary senior, of
- course, thought the expenditure extravagant.</p>
-<p>&quot;Couldn't you do without a carpet? Why have recovered the
- arm-chairs? In my time there was a single arm-chair in a house,
- for elderly persons--at any rate it was so at my mother's, who
- was a good woman, I can tell you. Everybody can't be rich! No
- fortune can hold out against waste! I should be ashamed to coddle
- myself as you do! And yet I am old. I need looking after. And
- there! there! fitting up gowns! fallals! What! silk for lining at
- two francs, when you can get jaconet for ten sous, or even for
- eight, that would do well enough!&quot;</p>
-<p>Emma, lying on a lounge, replied as quietly as possible--&quot;Ah!
- Madame, enough! enough!&quot;</p>
-<p>The other went on lecturing her, predicting they would end in the
- workhouse. But it was Bovary's fault. Luckily he had promised to
- destroy that power of attorney.</p>
-<p>&quot;What?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! he swore he would,&quot; went on the good woman.</p>
-<p>Emma opened the window, called Charles, and the poor fellow was
- obliged to confess the promise torn from him by his mother.</p>
-<p>Emma disappeared, then came back quickly, and majestically handed
- her a thick piece of paper.</p>
-<p>&quot;Thank you,&quot; said the old woman. And she threw the power of
- attorney into the fire.</p>
-<p>Emma began to laugh, a strident, piercing, continuous laugh; she
- had an attack of hysterics.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, my God!&quot; cried Charles. &quot;Ah! you really are wrong! You
- come
- here and make scenes with her!&quot;</p>
-<p>His mother, shrugging her shoulders, declared it was &quot;all put
- on.&quot;</p>
-<p>But Charles, rebelling for the first time, took his wife's part,
- so that Madame Bovary, senior, said she would leave. She went the
- very next day, and on the threshold, as he was trying to detain
- her, she replied--</p>
-<p>&quot;No, no! You love her better than me, and you are right. It is
- natural. For the rest, so much the worse! You will see. Good
- day--for I am not likely to come soon again, as you say, to make
- scenes.&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles nevertheless was very crestfallen before Emma, who did
- not hide the resentment she still felt at his want of confidence,
- and it needed many prayers before she would consent to have
- another power of attorney. He even accompanied her to Monsieur
- Guillaumin to have a second one, just like the other, drawn up.</p>
-<p>&quot;I understand,&quot; said the notary; &quot;a man of science can't be
- worried with the practical details of life.&quot;</p>
-<p>And Charles felt relieved by this comfortable reflection, which
- gave his weakness the flattering appearance of higher
- pre-occupation.</p>
-<p>And what an outburst the next Thursday at the hotel in their room
- with Leon! She laughed, cried, sang, sent for sherbets, wanted to
- smoke cigarettes, seemed to him wild and extravagant, but
- adorable, superb.</p>
-<p>He did not know what recreation of her whole being drove her more
- and more to plunge into the pleasures of life. She was becoming
- irritable, greedy, voluptuous; and she walked about the streets
- with him carrying her head high, without fear, so she said, of
- compromising herself. At times, however, Emma shuddered at the
- sudden thought of meeting Rodolphe, for it seemed to her that,
- although they were separated forever, she was not completely free
- from her subjugation to him.</p>
-<p>One night she did not return to Yonville at all. Charles lost his
- head with anxiety, and little Berthe would not go to bed without
- her mamma, and sobbed enough to break her heart. Justin had gone
- out searching the road at random. Monsieur Homais even had left
- his pharmacy.</p>
-<p>At last, at eleven o'clock, able to bear it no longer, Charles
- harnessed his chaise, jumped in, whipped up his horse, and
- reached the &quot;Croix-Rouge&quot; about two o'clock in the morning. No
- one there! He thought that the clerk had perhaps seen her; but
- where did he live? Happily, Charles remembered his employer's
- address, and rushed off there.</p>
-<p>Day was breaking, and he could distinguish the escutcheons over
- the door, and knocked. Someone, without opening the door, shouted
- out the required information, adding a few insults to those who
- disturb people in the middle of the night.</p>
-<p>The house inhabited by the clerk had neither bell, knocker, nor
- porter. Charles knocked loudly at the shutters with his hands. A
- policeman happened to pass by. Then he was frightened, and went
- away.</p>
-<p>&quot;I am mad,&quot; he said; &quot;no doubt they kept her to dinner at
- Monsieur Lormeaux'.&quot; But the Lormeaux no longer lived at Rouen.</p>
-<p>&quot;She probably stayed to look after Madame Dubreuil. Why, Madame
- Dubreuil has been dead these ten months! Where can she be?&quot;</p>
-<p>An idea occurred to him. At a cafe he asked for a Directory, and
- hurriedly looked for the name of Mademoiselle Lempereur, who
- lived at No. 74 Rue de la Renelle-des-Maroquiniers.</p>
-<p>As he was turning into the street, Emma herself appeared at the
- other end of it. He threw himself upon her rather than embraced
- her, crying--</p>
-<p>&quot;What kept you yesterday?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I was not well.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What was it? Where? How?&quot;</p>
-<p>She passed her hand over her forehead and answered, &quot;At
- Mademoiselle Lempereur's.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I was sure of it! I was going there.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, it isn't worth while,&quot; said Emma. &quot;She went out just now;
- but for the future don't worry. I do not feel free, you see, if I
- know that the least delay upsets you like this.&quot;</p>
-<p>This was a sort of permission that she gave herself, so as to get
- perfect freedom in her escapades. And she profited by it freely,
- fully. When she was seized with the desire to see Leon, she set
- out upon any pretext; and as he was not expecting her on that
- day, she went to fetch him at his office.</p>
-<p>It was a great delight at first, but soon he no longer concealed
- the truth, which was, that his master complained very much about
- these interruptions.</p>
-<p>&quot;Pshaw! come along,&quot; she said.</p>
-<p>And he slipped out.</p>
-<p>She wanted him to dress all in black, and grow a pointed beard,
- to look like the portraits of Louis XIII. She wanted to see his
- lodgings; thought them poor. He blushed at them, but she did not
- notice this, then advised him to buy some curtains like hers, and
- as he objected to the expense--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! ah! you care for your money,&quot; she said laughing.</p>
-<p>Each time Leon had to tell her everything that he had done since their last
- meeting. She asked him for some verses--some verses &quot;for herself,&quot;
- a &quot;love poem&quot; in honour of her. But he never succeeded in getting
- a rhyme for the second verse; and at last ended by copying a sonnet in a &quot;Keepsake.&quot;
- This was less from vanity than from the one desire of pleasing her. He did not
- question her ideas; he accepted all her tastes; he was rather becoming her mistress
- than she his. She had tender words and kisses that thrilled his soul. Where
- could she have learnt this corruption almost incorporeal in the strength of
- its profanity and dissimulation?</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Six</h3>
-<p>During the journeys he made to see her, Leon had often dined at
- the chemist's, and he felt obliged from politeness to invite him
- in turn.</p>
-<p>&quot;With pleasure!&quot; Monsieur Homais replied; &quot;besides, I must
- invigorate my mind, for I am getting rusty here. We'll go to the
- theatre, to the restaurant; we'll make a night of it.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, my dear!&quot; tenderly murmured Madame Homais, alarmed at the
- vague perils he was preparing to brave.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, what? Do you think I'm not sufficiently ruining my health living
- here amid the continual emanations of the pharmacy? But there! that is the way
- with women! They are jealous of science, and then are opposed to our taking
- the most legitimate distractions. No matter! Count upon me. One of these days
- I shall turn up at Rouen, and we'll go the pace together.&quot; </p>
-<p>The druggist would formerly have taken good care not to use such
- an expression, but he was cultivating a gay Parisian style, which
- he thought in the best taste; and, like his neighbour, Madame
- Bovary, he questioned the clerk curiously about the customs of
- the capital; he even talked slang to dazzle the bourgeois, saying
- bender, crummy, dandy, macaroni, the cheese, cut my stick and
- &quot;I'll hook it,&quot; for &quot;I am going.&quot;</p>
-<p>So one Thursday Emma was surprised to meet Monsieur Homais in the
- kitchen of the &quot;Lion d'Or,&quot; wearing a traveller's costume, that
- is to say, wrapped in an old cloak which no one knew he had,
- while he carried a valise in one hand and the foot-warmer of his
- establishment in the other. He had confided his intentions to no
- one, for fear of causing the public anxiety by his absence.</p>
-<p>The idea of seeing again the place where his youth had been spent
- no doubt excited him, for during the whole journey he never
- ceased talking, and as soon as he had arrived, he jumped quickly
- out of the diligence to go in search of Leon. In vain the clerk
- tried to get rid of him. Monsieur Homais dragged him off to the
- large Cafe de la Normandie, which he entered majestically, not
- raising his hat, thinking it very provincial to uncover in any
- public place.</p>
-<p>Emma waited for Leon three quarters of an hour. At last she ran
- to his office; and, lost in all sorts of conjectures, accusing
- him of indifference, and reproaching herself for her weakness,
- she spent the afternoon, her face pressed against the
- window-panes.</p>
-<p>At two o'clock they were still at a table opposite each other.
- The large room was emptying; the stove-pipe, in the shape of a
- palm-tree, spread its gilt leaves over the white ceiling, and
- near them, outside the window, in the bright sunshine, a little
- fountain gurgled in a white basin, where; in the midst of
- watercress and asparagus, three torpid lobsters stretched across
- to some quails that lay heaped up in a pile on their sides.</p>
-<p>Homais was enjoying himself. Although he was even more
- intoxicated with the luxury than the rich fare, the Pommard wine
- all the same rather excited his faculties; and when the omelette
- au rhum* appeared, he began propounding immoral theories about
- women. What seduced him above all else was chic. He admired an
- elegant toilette in a well-furnished apartment, and as to bodily
- qualities, he didn't dislike a young girl.</p>
-<p>* In rum.</p>
-<p>
- Leon watched the clock in despair. The druggist went on drinking,
- eating, and talking.</p>
-<p>&quot;You must be very lonely,&quot; he said suddenly, &quot;here at Rouen.
- To
- be sure your lady-love doesn't live far away.&quot;</p>
-<p>And the other blushed--</p>
-<p>&quot;Come now, be frank. Can you deny that at Yonville--&quot;</p>
-<p>The young man stammered something.</p>
-<p>&quot;At Madame Bovary's, you're not making love to--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;To whom?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;The servant!&quot;</p>
-<p>He was not joking; but vanity getting the better of all prudence,
- Leon, in spite of himself protested. Besides, he only liked dark
- women.</p>
-<p>&quot;I approve of that,&quot; said the chemist; &quot;they have more passion.&quot;</p>
-<p>And whispering into his friend's ear, he pointed out the symptoms
- by which one could find out if a woman had passion. He even
- launched into an ethnographic digression: the German was
- vapourish, the French woman licentious, the Italian passionate.</p>
-<p>&quot;And negresses?&quot; asked the clerk.</p>
-<p>&quot;They are an artistic taste!&quot; said Homais. &quot;Waiter! two cups
- of
- coffee!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Are we going?&quot; at last asked Leon impatiently.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ja!&quot;</p>
-<p>But before leaving he wanted to see the proprietor of the
- establishment and made him a few compliments. Then the young man,
- to be alone, alleged he had some business engagement.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! I will escort you,&quot; said Homais.</p>
-<p>And all the while he was walking through the streets with him he
- talked of his wife, his children; of their future, and of his
- business; told him in what a decayed condition it had formerly
- been, and to what a degree of perfection he had raised it.</p>
-<p>Arrived in front of the Hotel de Boulogne, Leon left him
- abruptly, ran up the stairs, and found his mistress in great
- excitement. At mention of the chemist she flew into a passion.
- He, however, piled up good reasons; it wasn't his fault; didn't
- she know Homais--did she believe that he would prefer his
- company? But she turned away; he drew her back, and, sinking on
- his knees, clasped her waist with his arms in a languorous pose,
- full of concupiscence and supplication.</p>
-<p>She was standing; up, her large flashing eyes looked at him
- seriously, almost terribly. Then tears obscured them, her red
- eyelids were lowered, she gave him her hands, and Leon was
- pressing them to his lips when a servant appeared to tell the
- gentleman that he was wanted.</p>
-<p>&quot;You will come back?&quot; she said.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But when?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Immediately.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;It's a trick,&quot; said the chemist, when he saw Leon. &quot;I wanted
- to
- interrupt this visit, that seemed to me to annoy you. Let's go
- and have a glass of garus at Bridoux'.&quot;</p>
-<p>Leon vowed that he must get back to his office. Then the druggist
- joked him about quill-drivers and the law.</p>
-<p>&quot;Leave Cujas and Barthole alone a bit. Who the devil prevents
- you? Be a man! Let's go to Bridoux'. You'll see his dog. It's
- very interesting.&quot;</p>
-<p>And as the clerk still insisted--</p>
-<p>&quot;I'll go with you. I'll read a paper while I wait for you, or
- turn over the leaves of a 'Code.'&quot;</p>
-<p>Leon, bewildered by Emma's anger, Monsieur Homais' chatter, and,
- perhaps, by the heaviness of the luncheon, was undecided, and, as
- it were, fascinated by the chemist, who kept repeating--</p>
-<p>&quot;Let's go to Bridoux'. It's just by here, in the Rue Malpalu.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then, through cowardice, through stupidity, through that
- indefinable feeling that drags us into the most distasteful acts,
- he allowed himself to be led off to Bridoux', whom they found in
- his small yard, superintending three workmen, who panted as they
- turned the large wheel of a machine for making seltzer-water.
- Homais gave them some good advice. He embraced Bridoux; they took
- some garus. Twenty times Leon tried to escape, but the other
- seized him by the arm saying--</p>
-<p>&quot;Presently! I'm coming! We'll go to the 'Fanal de Rouen' to see
- the fellows there. I'll introduce you to Thornassin.&quot;</p>
-<p>At last he managed to get rid of him, and rushed straight to the
- hotel. Emma was no longer there. She had just gone in a fit of
- anger. She detested him now. This failing to keep their
- rendezvous seemed to her an insult, and she tried to rake up
- other reasons to separate herself from him. He was incapable of
- heroism, weak, banal, more spiritless than a woman, avaricious
- too, and cowardly.</p>
-<p>Then, growing calmer, she at length discovered that she had, no
- doubt, calumniated him. But the disparaging of those we love
- always alienates us from them to some extent. We must not touch
- our idols; the gilt sticks to our fingers.</p>
-<p>They gradually came to talking more frequently of matters outside
- their love, and in the letters that Emma wrote him she spoke of
- flowers, verses, the moon and the stars, naive resources of a
- waning passion striving to keep itself alive by all external
- aids. She was constantly promising herself a profound felicity on
- her next journey. Then she confessed to herself that she felt
- nothing extraordinary. This disappointment quickly gave way to a
- new hope, and Emma returned to him more inflamed, more eager than
- ever. She undressed brutally, tearing off the thin laces of her
- corset that nestled around her hips like a gliding snake. She
- went on tiptoe, barefooted, to see once more that the door was
- closed, then, pale, serious, and, without speaking, with one
- movement, she threw herself upon his breast with a long shudder.</p>
-<p>Yet there was upon that brow covered with cold drops, on those
- quivering lips, in those wild eyes, in the strain of those arms,
- something vague and dreary that seemed to Leon to glide between
- them subtly as if to separate them.</p>
-<p>He did not dare to question her; but, seeing her so skilled, she
- must have passed, he thought, through every experience of
- suffering and of pleasure. What had once charmed now frightened
- him a little. Besides, he rebelled against his absorption, daily
- more marked, by her personality. He begrudged Emma this constant
- victory. He even strove not to love her; then, when he heard the
- creaking of her boots, he turned coward, like drunkards at the
- sight of strong drinks.</p>
-<p>She did not fail, in truth, to lavish all sorts of attentions
- upon him, from the delicacies of food to the coquettries of dress
- and languishing looks. She brought roses to her breast from
- Yonville, which she threw into his face; was anxious about his
- health, gave him advice as to his conduct; and, in order the more
- surely to keep her hold on him, hoping perhaps that heaven would
- take her part, she tied a medal of the Virgin round his neck. She
- inquired like a virtuous mother about his companions. She said to
- him--</p>
-<p>&quot;Don't see them; don't go out; think only of ourselves; love me!&quot;</p>
-<p>She would have liked to be able to watch over his life; and the
- idea occurred to her of having him followed in the streets. Near
- the hotel there was always a kind of loafer who accosted
- travellers, and who would not refuse. But her pride revolted at
- this.</p>
-<p>&quot;Bah! so much the worse. Let him deceive me! What does it matter
- to me? As If I cared for him!&quot;</p>
-<p>One day, when they had parted early and she was returning alone
- along the boulevard, she saw the walls of her convent; then she
- sat down on a form in the shade of the elm-trees. How calm that
- time had been! How she longed for the ineffable sentiments of
- love that she had tried to figure to herself out of books! The
- first month of her marriage, her rides in the wood, the viscount
- that waltzed, and Lagardy singing, all repassed before her eyes.
- And Leon suddenly appeared to her as far off as the others.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yet I love him,&quot; she said to herself.</p>
-<p>No matter! She was not happy--she never had been. Whence came
- this insufficiency in life--this instantaneous turning to decay
- of everything on which she leant? But if there were somewhere a
- being strong and beautiful, a valiant nature, full at once of
- exaltation and refinement, a poet's heart in an angel's form, a
- lyre with sounding chords ringing out elegiac epithalamia to
- heaven, why, perchance, should she not find him? Ah! how
- impossible! Besides, nothing was worth the trouble of seeking it;
- everything was a lie. Every smile hid a yawn of boredom, every
- joy a curse, all pleasure satiety, and the sweetest kisses left
- upon your lips only the unattainable desire for a greater
- delight.</p>
-<p>A metallic clang droned through the air, and four strokes were
- heard from the convent-clock. Four o'clock! And it seemed to her
- that she had been there on that form an eternity. But an infinity
- of passions may be contained in a minute, like a crowd in a small
- space.</p>
-<p>Emma lived all absorbed in hers, and troubled no more about money
- matters than an archduchess.</p>
-<p>Once, however, a wretched-looking man, rubicund and bald, came to
- her house, saying he had been sent by Monsieur Vincart of Rouen.
- He took out the pins that held together the side-pockets of his
- long green overcoat, stuck them into his sleeve, and politely
- handed her a paper.</p>
-<p>It was a bill for seven hundred francs, signed by her, and which
- Lheureux, in spite of all his professions, had paid away to
- Vincart. She sent her servant for him. He could not come. Then
- the stranger, who had remained standing, casting right and left
- curious glances, that his thick, fair eyebrows hid, asked with a
- naive air--</p>
-<p>&quot;What answer am I to take Monsieur Vincart?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said Emma, &quot;tell him that I haven't it. I will send next
- week; he must wait; yes, till next week.&quot;</p>
-<p>And the fellow went without another word.</p>
-<p>But the next day at twelve o'clock she received a summons, and
- the sight of the stamped paper, on which appeared several times
- in large letters, &quot;Maitre Hareng, bailiff at Buchy,&quot; so
- frightened her that she rushed in hot haste to the linendraper's.
- She found him in his shop, doing up a parcel.</p>
-<p>&quot;Your obedient!&quot; he said; &quot;I am at your service.&quot;</p>
-<p>But Lheureux, all the same, went on with his work, helped by a
- young girl of about thirteen, somewhat hunch-backed, who was at
- once his clerk and his servant.</p>
-<p>Then, his clogs clattering on the shop-boards, he went up in
- front of Madame Bovary to the first door, and introduced her into
- a narrow closet, where, in a large bureau in sapon-wood, lay some
- ledgers, protected by a horizontal padlocked iron bar. Against
- the wall, under some remnants of calico, one glimpsed a safe, but
- of such dimensions that it must contain something besides bills
- and money. Monsieur Lheureux, in fact, went in for pawnbroking,
- and it was there that he had put Madame Bovary's gold chain,
- together with the earrings of poor old Tellier, who, at last
- forced to sell out, had bought a meagre store of grocery at
- Quincampoix, where he was dying of catarrh amongst his candles,
- that were less yellow than his face.</p>
-<p>Lheureux sat down in a large cane arm-chair, saying: &quot;What news?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;See!&quot;</p>
-<p>And she showed him the paper.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well how can I help it?&quot;</p>
-<p>Then she grew angry, reminding him of the promise he had given
- not to pay away her bills. He acknowledged it.</p>
-<p>&quot;But I was pressed myself; the knife was at my own throat.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;And what will happen now?&quot; she went on.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, it's very simple; a judgment and then a distraint--that's
- about it!&quot;</p>
-<p>Emma kept down a desire to strike him, and asked gently if there
- was no way of quieting Monsieur Vincart.</p>
-<p>&quot;I dare say! Quiet Vincart! You don't know him; he's more
- ferocious than an Arab!&quot;</p>
-<p>Still Monsieur Lheureux must interfere.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, listen. It seems to me so far I've been very good to you.&quot;
- And opening one of his ledgers, &quot;See,&quot; he said. Then running up
- the page with his finger, &quot;Let's see! let's see! August 3d, two
- hundred francs; June 17th, a hundred and fifty; March 23d,
- forty-six. In April--&quot;</p>
-<p>He stopped, as if afraid of making some mistake.</p>
-<p>&quot;Not to speak of the bills signed by Monsieur Bovary, one for
- seven hundred francs, and another for three hundred. As to your
- little installments, with the interest, why, there's no end to
- 'em; one gets quite muddled over 'em. I'll have nothing more to
- do with it.&quot;</p>
-<p>She wept; she even called him &quot;her good Monsieur Lheureux.&quot; But
- he always fell back upon &quot;that rascal Vincart.&quot; Besides, he
- hadn't a brass farthing; no one was paying him now-a-days; they
- were eating his coat off his back; a poor shopkeeper like him
- couldn't advance money.</p>
-<p>Emma was silent, and Monsieur Lheureux, who was biting the
- feathers of a quill, no doubt became uneasy at her silence, for
- he went on--</p>
-<p>&quot;Unless one of these days I have something coming in, I might--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Besides,&quot; said she, &quot;as soon as the balance of Barneville--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What!&quot;</p>
-<p>And on hearing that Langlois had not yet paid he seemed much
- surprised. Then in a honied voice--</p>
-<p>&quot;And we agree, you say?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh! to anything you like.&quot;</p>
-<p>On this he closed his eyes to reflect, wrote down a few figures,
- and declaring it would be very difficult for him, that the affair
- was shady, and that he was being bled, he wrote out four bills
- for two hundred and fifty francs each, to fall due month by
- month.</p>
-<p>&quot;Provided that Vincart will listen to me! However, it's settled.
- I don't play the fool; I'm straight enough.&quot;</p>
-<p>Next he carelessly showed her several new goods, not one of
- which, however, was in his opinion worthy of madame.</p>
-<p>&quot;When I think that there's a dress at threepence-halfpenny a
- yard, and warranted fast colours! And yet they actually swallow
- it! Of course you understand one doesn't tell them what it really
- is!&quot; He hoped by this confession of dishonesty to others to quite
- convince her of his probity to her.</p>
-<p>Then he called her back to show her three yards of guipure that
- he had lately picked up &quot;at a sale.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Isn't it lovely?&quot; said Lheureux. &quot;It is very much used now
- for
- the backs of arm-chairs. It's quite the rage.&quot;</p>
-<p>And, more ready than a juggler, he wrapped up the guipure in some
- blue paper and put it in Emma's hands.</p>
-<p>&quot;But at least let me know--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, another time,&quot; he replied, turning on his heel.</p>
-<p>That same evening she urged Bovary to write to his mother, to ask
- her to send as quickly as possible the whole of the balance due
- from the father's estate. The mother-in-law replied that she had
- nothing more, the winding up was over, and there was due to them
- besides Barneville an income of six hundred francs, that she
- would pay them punctually.</p>
-<p>Then Madame Bovary sent in accounts to two or three patients, and
- she made large use of this method, which was very successful. She
- was always careful to add a postscript: &quot;Do not mention this to
- my husband; you know how proud he is. Excuse me. Yours
- obediently.&quot; There were some complaints; she intercepted them.</p>
-<p>To get money she began selling her old gloves, her old hats, the
- old odds and ends, and she bargained rapaciously, her peasant
- blood standing her in good stead. Then on her journey to town she
- picked up nick-nacks secondhand, that, in default of anyone else,
- Monsieur Lheureux would certainly take off her hands. She bought
- ostrich feathers, Chinese porcelain, and trunks; she borrowed
- from Felicite, from Madame Lefrancois, from the landlady at the
- Croix-Rouge, from everybody, no matter where.</p>
-<p>With the money she at last received from Barneville she paid two
- bills; the other fifteen hundred francs fell due. She renewed the
- bills, and thus it was continually.</p>
-<p>Sometimes, it is true, she tried to make a calculation, but she
- discovered things so exorbitant that she could not believe them
- possible. Then she recommenced, soon got confused, gave it all
- up, and thought no more about it.</p>
-<p>The house was very dreary now. Tradesmen were seen leaving it
- with angry faces. Handkerchiefs were lying about on the stoves,
- and little Berthe, to the great scandal of Madame Homais, wore
- stockings with holes in them. If Charles timidly ventured a
- remark, she answered roughly that it wasn't her fault.</p>
-<p>What was the meaning of all these fits of temper? She explained
- everything through her old nervous illness, and reproaching
- himself with having taken her infirmities for faults, accused
- himself of egotism, and longed to go and take her in his arms.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah, no!&quot; he said to himself; &quot;I should worry her.&quot;</p>
-<p>And he did not stir.</p>
-<p>After dinner he walked about alone in the garden; he took little
- Berthe on his knees, and unfolding his medical journal, tried to
- teach her to read. But the child, who never had any lessons, soon
- looked up with large, sad eyes and began to cry. Then he
- comforted her; went to fetch water in her can to make rivers on
- the sand path, or broke off branches from the privet hedges to
- plant trees in the beds. This did not spoil the garden much, all
- choked now with long weeds. They owed Lestiboudois for so many
- days. Then the child grew cold and asked for her mother.</p>
-<p>&quot;Call the servant,&quot; said Charles. &quot;You know, dearie, that mamma
- does not like to be disturbed.&quot;</p>
-<p>Autumn was setting in, and the leaves were already falling, as
- they did two years ago when she was ill. Where would it all end?
- And he walked up and down, his hands behind his back.</p>
-<p>Madame was in her room, which no one entered. She stayed there
- all day long, torpid, half dressed, and from time to time burning
- Turkish pastilles which she had bought at Rouen in an Algerian's
- shop. In order not to have at night this sleeping man stretched
- at her side, by dint of manoeuvring, she at last succeeded in
- banishing him to the second floor, while she read till morning
- extravagant books, full of pictures of orgies and thrilling
- situations. Often, seized with fear, she cried out, and Charles
- hurried to her.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, go away!&quot; she would say.</p>
-<p>Or at other times, consumed more ardently than ever by that inner
- flame to which adultery added fuel, panting, tremulous, all
- desire, she threw open her window, breathed in the cold air,
- shook loose in the wind her masses of hair, too heavy, and,
- gazing upon the stars, longed for some princely love. She thought
- of him, of Leon. She would then have given anything for a single
- one of those meetings that surfeited her.</p>
-<p>These were her gala days. She wanted them to be sumptuous, and
- when he alone could not pay the expenses, she made up the deficit
- liberally, which happened pretty well every time. He tried to
- make her understand that they would be quite as comfortable
- somewhere else, in a smaller hotel, but she always found some
- objection.</p>
-<p>One day she drew six small silver-gilt spoons from her bag (they
- were old Roualt's wedding present), begging him to pawn them at
- once for her, and Leon obeyed, though the proceeding annoyed him.
- He was afraid of compromising himself.</p>
-<p>Then, on, reflection, he began to think his mistress's ways were
- growing odd, and that they were perhaps not wrong in wishing to
- separate him from her.</p>
-<p>In fact someone had sent his mother a long anonymous letter to
- warn her that he was &quot;ruining himself with a married woman,&quot; and
- the good lady at once conjuring up the eternal bugbear of
- families the vague pernicious creature, the siren, the monster,
- who dwells fantastically in depths of love, wrote to Lawyer
- Dubocage, his employer, who behaved perfectly in the affair. He
- kept him for three quarters of an hour trying to open his eyes,
- to warn him of the abyss into which he was falling. Such an
- intrigue would damage him later on, when he set up for himself.
- He implored him to break with her, and, if he would not make this
- sacrifice in his own interest, to do it at least for his,
- Dubocage's sake.</p>
-<p>At last Leon swore he would not see Emma again, and he reproached
- himself with not having kept his word, considering all the worry
- and lectures this woman might still draw down upon him, without
- reckoning the jokes made by his companions as they sat round the
- stove in the morning. Besides, he was soon to be head clerk; it
- was time to settle down. So he gave up his flute, exalted
- sentiments, and poetry; for every bourgeois in the flush of his
- youth, were it but for a day, a moment, has believed himself
- capable of immense passions, of lofty enterprises. The most
- mediocre libertine has dreamed of sultanas; every notary bears
- within him the debris of a poet.</p>
-<p>He was bored now when Emma suddenly began to sob on his breast,
- and his heart, like the people who can only stand a certain
- amount of music, dozed to the sound of a love whose delicacies he
- no longer noted.</p>
-<p>They knew one another too well for any of those surprises of
- possession that increase its joys a hundred-fold. She was as sick
- of him as he was weary of her. Emma found again in adultery all
- the platitudes of marriage.</p>
-<p>But how to get rid of him? Then, though she might feel humiliated
- at the baseness of such enjoyment, she clung to it from habit or
- from corruption, and each day she hungered after them the more,
- exhausting all felicity in wishing for too much of it. She
- accused Leon of her baffled hopes, as if he had betrayed her; and
- she even longed for some catastrophe that would bring about their
- separation, since she had not the courage to make up her mind to
- it herself.</p>
-<p>She none the less went on writing him love letters, in virtue of
- the notion that a woman must write to her lover.</p>
-<p>But whilst she wrote it was another man she saw, a phantom
- fashioned out of her most ardent memories, of her finest reading,
- her strongest lusts, and at last he became so real, so tangible,
- that she palpitated wondering, without, however, the power to
- imagine him clearly, so lost was he, like a god, beneath the
- abundance of his attributes. He dwelt in that azure land where
- silk ladders hang from balconies under the breath of flowers, in
- the light of the moon. She felt him near her; he was coming, and
- would carry her right away in a kiss.</p>
-<p>Then she fell back exhausted, for these transports of vague love
- wearied her more than great debauchery.</p>
-<p>She now felt constant ache all over her. Often she even received
- summonses, stamped paper that she barely looked at. She would
- have liked not to be alive, or to be always asleep.</p>
-<p>On Mid-Lent she did not return to Yonville, but in the evening
- went to a masked ball. She wore velvet breeches, red stockings, a
- club wig, and three-cornered hat cocked on one side. She danced
- all night to the wild tones of the trombones; people gathered
- round her, and in the morning she found herself on the steps of
- the theatre together with five or six masks, debardeuses* and
- sailors, Leon's comrades, who were talking about having supper.</p>
-<p>* People dressed as longshoremen.</p>
-<p>
- The neighbouring cafes were full. They caught sight of one on the
- harbour, a very indifferent restaurant, whose proprietor showed
- them to a little room on the fourth floor.</p>
-<p>The men were whispering in a corner, no doubt consorting about
- expenses. There were a clerk, two medical students, and a
- shopman--what company for her! As to the women, Emma soon
- perceived from the tone of their voices that they must almost
- belong to the lowest class. Then she was frightened, pushed back
- her chair, and cast down her eyes.</p>
-<p>The others began to eat; she ate nothing. Her head was on fire,
- her eyes smarted, and her skin was ice-cold. In her head she
- seemed to feel the floor of the ball-room rebounding again
- beneath the rhythmical pulsation of the thousands of dancing
- feet. And now the smell of the punch, the smoke of the cigars,
- made her giddy. She fainted, and they carried her to the window.</p>
-<p>Day was breaking, and a great stain of purple colour broadened
- out in the pale horizon over the St. Catherine hills. The livid
- river was shivering in the wind; there was no one on the bridges;
- the street lamps were going out.</p>
-<p>She revived, and began thinking of Berthe asleep yonder in the
- servant's room. Then a cart filled with long strips of iron
- passed by, and made a deafening metallic vibration against the
- walls of the houses.</p>
-<p>She slipped away suddenly, threw off her costume, told Leon she
- must get back, and at last was alone at the Hotel de Boulogne.
- Everything, even herself, was now unbearable to her. She wished
- that, taking wing like a bird, she could fly somewhere, far away
- to regions of purity, and there grow young again.</p>
-<p>She went out, crossed the Boulevard, the Place Cauchoise, and the
- Faubourg, as far as an open street that overlooked some gardens.
- She walked rapidly; the fresh air calming her; and, little by
- little, the faces of the crowd, the masks, the quadrilles, the
- lights, the supper, those women, all disappeared like mists
- fading away. Then, reaching the &quot;Croix-Rouge,&quot; she threw herself
- on the bed in her little room on the second floor, where there
- were pictures of the &quot;Tour de Nesle.&quot; At four o'clock Hivert
- awoke her.</p>
-<p>When she got home, Felicite showed her behind the clock a grey
- paper. She read--</p>
-<p>&quot;In virtue of the seizure in execution of a judgment.&quot;</p>
-<p>What judgment? As a matter of fact, the evening before another
- paper had been brought that she had not yet seen, and she was
- stunned by these words--</p>
-<p>&quot;By order of the king, law, and justice, to Madame Bovary.&quot; Then,
- skipping several lines, she read, &quot;Within twenty-four hours,
- without fail--&quot; But what? &quot;To pay the sum of eight thousand
- francs.&quot; And there was even at the bottom, &quot;She will be
- constrained thereto by every form of law, and notably by a writ
- of distraint on her furniture and effects.&quot;</p>
-<p>What was to be done? In twenty-four hours--tomorrow. Lheureux,
- she thought, wanted to frighten her again; for she saw through
- all his devices, the object of his kindnesses. What reassured her
- was the very magnitude of the sum.</p>
-<p>However, by dint of buying and not paying, of borrowing, signing
- bills, and renewing these bills that grew at each new falling-in,
- she had ended by preparing a capital for Monsieur Lheureux which
- he was impatiently awaiting for his speculations.</p>
-<p>She presented herself at his place with an offhand air.</p>
-<p>&quot;You know what has happened to me? No doubt it's a joke!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;How so?&quot;</p>
-<p>He turned away slowly, and, folding his arms, said to her--</p>
-<p>&quot;My good lady, did you think I should go on to all eternity being
- your purveyor and banker, for the love of God? Now be just. I
- must get back what I've laid out. Now be just.&quot;</p>
-<p>She cried out against the debt.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! so much the worse. The court has admitted it. There's a
- judgment. It's been notified to you. Besides, it isn't my fault.
- It's Vincart's.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Could you not--?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, nothing whatever.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But still, now talk it over.&quot;</p>
-<p>And she began beating about the bush; she had known nothing about
- it; it was a surprise.</p>
-<p>&quot;Whose fault is that?&quot; said Lheureux, bowing ironically. &quot;While
- I'm slaving like a nigger, you go gallivanting about.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! no lecturing.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;It never does any harm,&quot; he replied.</p>
-<p>She turned coward; she implored him; she even pressed her pretty
- white and slender hand against the shopkeeper's knee.</p>
-<p>&quot;There, that'll do! Anyone'd think you wanted to seduce me!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;You are a wretch!&quot; she cried.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, oh! go it! go it!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I will show you up. I shall tell my husband.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;All right! I too. I'll show your husband something.&quot;</p>
-<p>And Lheureux drew from his strong box the receipt for eighteen
- hundred francs that she had given him when Vincart had discounted
- the bills.</p>
-<p>&quot;Do you think,&quot; he added, &quot;that he'll not understand your little
- theft, the poor dear man?&quot;</p>
-<p>She collapsed, more overcome than if felled by the blow of a
- pole-axe. He was walking up and down from the window to the
- bureau, repeating all the while--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! I'll show him! I'll show him!&quot; Then he approached her, and
- in a soft voice said--</p>
-<p>&quot;It isn't pleasant, I know; but, after all, no bones are broken,
- and, since that is the only way that is left for you paying back
- my money--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But where am I to get any?&quot; said Emma, wringing her hands.</p>
-<p>&quot;Bah! when one has friends like you!&quot;</p>
-<p>And he looked at her in so keen, so terrible a fashion, that she
- shuddered to her very heart.</p>
-<p>&quot;I promise you,&quot; she said, &quot;to sign--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I've enough of your signatures.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I will sell something.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Get along!&quot; he said, shrugging his shoulders; &quot;you've not got
- anything.&quot;</p>
-<p>And he called through the peep-hole that looked down into the
- shop--</p>
-<p>&quot;Annette, don't forget the three coupons of No. 14.&quot;</p>
-<p>The servant appeared. Emma understood, and asked how much money
- would be wanted to put a stop to the proceedings.</p>
-<p>&quot;It is too late.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But if I brought you several thousand francs--a quarter of the
- sum--a third--perhaps the whole?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No; it's no use!&quot;</p>
-<p>And he pushed her gently towards the staircase.</p>
-<p>&quot;I implore you, Monsieur Lheureux, just a few days more!&quot; She was
- sobbing.</p>
-<p>&quot;There! tears now!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;You are driving me to despair!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What do I care?&quot; said he, shutting the door.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Seven</h3>
-<p>She was stoical the next day when Maitre Hareng, the bailiff, with two assistants,
- presented himself at her house to draw up the inventory for the distraint.</p>
-<p>They began with Bovary's consulting-room, and did not write down
- the phrenological head, which was considered an &quot;instrument of
- his profession&quot;; but in the kitchen they counted the plates; the
- saucepans, the chairs, the candlesticks, and in the bedroom all
- the nick-nacks on the whatnot. They examined her dresses, the
- linen, the dressing-room; and her whole existence to its most
- intimate details, was, like a corpse on whom a post-mortem is
- made, outspread before the eyes of these three men.</p>
-<p>Maitre Hareng, buttoned up in his thin black coat, wearing a
- white choker and very tight foot-straps, repeated from time to
- time--&quot;Allow me, madame. You allow me?&quot; Often he uttered
- exclamations. &quot;Charming! very pretty.&quot; Then he began writing
- again, dipping his pen into the horn inkstand in his left hand.</p>
-<p>When they had done with the rooms they went up to the attic. She
- kept a desk there in which Rodolphe's letters were locked. It had
- to be opened.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! a correspondence,&quot; said Maitre Hareng, with a discreet
- smile. &quot;But allow me, for I must make sure the box contains
- nothing else.&quot; And he tipped up the papers lightly, as if to
- shake out napoleons. Then she grew angered to see this coarse
- hand, with fingers red and pulpy like slugs, touching these pages
- against which her heart had beaten.</p>
-<p>They went at last. Felicite came back. Emma had sent her out to
- watch for Bovary in order to keep him off, and they hurriedly
- installed the man in possession under the roof, where he swore he
- would remain.</p>
-<p>During the evening Charles seemed to her careworn. Emma watched
- him with a look of anguish, fancying she saw an accusation in
- every line of his face. Then, when her eyes wandered over the
- chimney-piece ornamented with Chinese screens, over the large
- curtains, the armchairs, all those things, in a word, that had,
- softened the bitterness of her life, remorse seized her or rather
- an immense regret, that, far from crushing, irritated her
- passion. Charles placidly poked the fire, both his feet on the
- fire-dogs.</p>
-<p>Once the man, no doubt bored in his hiding-place, made a slight
- noise.</p>
-<p>&quot;Is anyone walking upstairs?&quot; said Charles.</p>
-<p>&quot;No,&quot; she replied; &quot;it is a window that has been left open,
- and
- is rattling in the wind.&quot;</p>
-<p>The next day, Sunday, she went to Rouen to call on all the
- brokers whose names she knew. They were at their country-places
- or on journeys. She was not discouraged; and those whom she did
- manage to see she asked for money, declaring she must have some,
- and that she would pay it back. Some laughed in her face; all
- refused.</p>
-<p>At two o'clock she hurried to Leon, and knocked at the door. No
- one answered. At length he appeared.</p>
-<p>&quot;What brings you here?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Do I disturb you?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No; but--&quot; And he admitted that his landlord didn't like his
- having &quot;women&quot; there.</p>
-<p>&quot;I must speak to you,&quot; she went on.</p>
-<p>Then he took down the key, but she stopped him.</p>
-<p>&quot;No, no! Down there, in our home!&quot;</p>
-<p>And they went to their room at the Hotel de Boulogne.</p>
-<p>On arriving she drank off a large glass of water. She was very
- pale. She said to him--</p>
-<p>&quot;Leon, you will do me a service?&quot;</p>
-<p>And, shaking him by both hands that she grasped tightly, she
- added</p>
-<p>&quot;Listen, I want eight thousand francs.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But you are mad!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Not yet.&quot;</p>
-<p>And thereupon, telling him the story of the distraint, she
- explained her distress to him; for Charles knew nothing of it;
- her mother-in-law detested her; old Rouault could do nothing; but
- he, Leon, he would set about finding this indispensable sum.</p>
-<p>&quot;How on earth can I?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What a coward you are!&quot; she cried.</p>
-<p>Then he said stupidly, &quot;You are exaggerating the difficulty.
- Perhaps, with a thousand crowns or so the fellow could be
- stopped.&quot;</p>
-<p>All the greater reason to try and do something; it was impossible
- that they could not find three thousand francs. Besides, Leon,
- could be security instead of her.</p>
-<p>&quot;Go, try, try! I will love you so!&quot;</p>
-<p>He went out, and came back at the end of an hour, saying, with
- solemn face--</p>
-<p>&quot;I have been to three people with no success.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then they remained sitting face to face at the two chimney
- corners, motionless, in silence. Emma shrugged her shoulders as
- she stamped her feet. He heard her murmuring--</p>
-<p>&quot;If I were in your place _I_ should soon get some.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But where?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;At your office.&quot; And she looked at him.</p>
-<p>An infernal boldness looked out from her burning eyes, and their
- lids drew close together with a lascivious and encouraging look,
- so that the young man felt himself growing weak beneath the mute
- will of this woman who was urging him to a crime. Then he was
- afraid, and to avoid any explanation he smote his forehead,
- crying--</p>
-<p>&quot;Morel is to come back to-night; he will not refuse me, I hope&quot;
- (this was one of his friends, the son of a very rich merchant);
- &quot;and I will bring it you to-morrow,&quot; he added.</p>
-<p>Emma did not seem to welcome this hope with all the joy he had
- expected. Did she suspect the lie? He went on, blushing--</p>
-<p>&quot;However, if you don't see me by three o'clock do not wait for
- me, my darling. I must be off now; forgive me! Goodbye!&quot;</p>
-<p>He pressed her hand, but it felt quite lifeless. Emma had no
- strength left for any sentiment.</p>
-<p>Four o'clock struck, and she rose to return to Yonville,
- mechanically obeying the force of old habits.</p>
-<p>The weather was fine. It was one of those March days, clear and
- sharp, when the sun shines in a perfectly white sky. The Rouen
- folk, in Sunday-clothes, were walking about with happy looks. She
- reached the Place du Parvis. People were coming out after
- vespers; the crowd flowed out through the three doors like a
- stream through the three arches of a bridge, and in the middle
- one, more motionless than a rock, stood the beadle.</p>
-<p>Then she remembered the day when, all anxious and full of hope,
- she had entered beneath this large nave, that had opened out
- before her, less profound than her love; and she walked on
- weeping beneath her veil, giddy, staggering, almost fainting.</p>
-<p>&quot;Take care!&quot; cried a voice issuing from the gate of a courtyard
- that was thrown open.</p>
-<p>She stopped to let pass a black horse, pawing the ground between
- the shafts of a tilbury, driven by a gentleman in sable furs. Who
- was it? She knew him. The carriage darted by and disappeared.</p>
-<p>Why, it was he--the Viscount. She turned away; the street was
- empty. She was so overwhelmed, so sad, that she had to lean
- against a wall to keep herself from falling.</p>
-<p>Then she thought she had been mistaken. Anyhow, she did not know.
- All within her and around her was abandoning her. She felt lost,
- sinking at random into indefinable abysses, and it was almost
- with joy that, on reaching the &quot;Croix-Rouge,&quot; she saw the good
- Homais, who was watching a large box full of pharmaceutical
- stores being hoisted on to the &quot;Hirondelle.&quot; In his hand he held
- tied in a silk handkerchief six cheminots for his wife.</p>
-<p>Madame Homais was very fond of these small, heavy turban-shaped
- loaves, that are eaten in Lent with salt butter; a last vestige
- of Gothic food that goes back, perhaps, to the time of the
- Crusades, and with which the robust Normans gorged themselves of
- yore, fancying they saw on the table, in the light of the yellow
- torches, between tankards of hippocras and huge boars' heads, the
- heads of Saracens to be devoured. The druggist's wife crunched
- them up as they had done--heroically, despite her wretched teeth.
- And so whenever Homais journeyed to town, he never failed to
- bring her home some that he bought at the great baker's in the
- Rue Massacre.</p>
-<p>&quot;Charmed to see you,&quot; he said, offering Emma a hand to help her
- into the &quot;Hirondelle.&quot; Then he hung up his cheminots to the cords
- of the netting, and remained bare-headed in an attitude pensive
- and Napoleonic.</p>
-<p>But when the blind man appeared as usual at the foot of the hill
- he exclaimed--</p>
-<p>&quot;I can't understand why the authorities tolerate such culpable
- industries. Such unfortunates should be locked up and forced to
- work. Progress, my word! creeps at a snail's pace. We are
- floundering about in mere barbarism.&quot;</p>
-<p>The blind man held out his hat, that flapped about at the door,
- as if it were a bag in the lining that had come unnailed.</p>
-<p>&quot;This,&quot; said the chemist, &quot;is a scrofulous affection.&quot;</p>
-<p>And though he knew the poor devil, he pretended to see him for
- the first time, murmured something about &quot;cornea,&quot; &quot;opaque
- cornea,&quot; &quot;sclerotic,&quot; &quot;facies,&quot; then asked him in a
- paternal
- tone--</p>
-<p>&quot;My friend, have you long had this terrible infirmity? Instead of
- getting drunk at the public, you'd do better to die yourself.&quot;</p>
-<p>He advised him to take good wine, good beer, and good joints. The
- blind man went on with his song; he seemed, moreover, almost
- idiotic. At last Monsieur Homais opened his purse--</p>
-<p>&quot;Now there's a sou; give me back two lairds, and don't forget my
- advice: you'll be the better for it.&quot;</p>
-<p>Hivert openly cast some doubt on the efficacy of it. But the
- druggist said that he would cure himself with an antiphlogistic
- pomade of his own composition, and he gave his address--&quot;Monsieur
- Homais, near the market, pretty well known.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Now,&quot; said Hivert, &quot;for all this trouble you'll give us your
- performance.&quot;</p>
-<p>The blind man sank down on his haunches, with his head thrown
- back, whilst he rolled his greenish eyes, lolled out his tongue,
- and rubbed his stomach with both hands as he uttered a kind of
- hollow yell like a famished dog. Emma, filled with disgust, threw
- him over her shoulder a five-franc piece. It was all her fortune.
- It seemed to her very fine thus to throw it away.</p>
-<p>The coach had gone on again when suddenly Monsieur Homais leant
- out through the window, crying--</p>
-<p>&quot;No farinaceous or milk food, wear wool next the skin, and expose
- the diseased parts to the smoke of juniper berries.&quot;</p>
-<p>The sight of the well-known objects that defiled before her eyes
- gradually diverted Emma from her present trouble. An intolerable
- fatigue overwhelmed her, and she reached her home stupefied,
- discouraged, almost asleep.</p>
-<p>&quot;Come what may come!&quot; she said to herself. &quot;And then, who knows?
- Why, at any moment could not some extraordinary event occur?
- Lheureux even might die!&quot;</p>
-<p>At nine o'clock in the morning she was awakened by the sound of
- voices in the Place. There was a crowd round the market reading a
- large bill fixed to one of the posts, and she saw Justin, who was
- climbing on to a stone and tearing down the bill. But at this
- moment the rural guard seized him by the collar. Monsieur Homais
- came out of his shop, and Mere Lefrangois, in the midst of the
- crowd, seemed to be perorating.</p>
-<p>&quot;Madame! madame!&quot; cried Felicite, running in, &quot;it's abominable!&quot;</p>
-<p>And the poor girl, deeply moved, handed her a yellow paper that
- she had just torn off the door. Emma read with a glance that all
- her furniture was for sale.</p>
-<p>Then they looked at one another silently. The servant and
- mistress had no secret one from the other. At last Felicite
- sighed--</p>
-<p>&quot;If I were you, madame, I should go to Monsieur Guillaumin.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Do you think--&quot;</p>
-<p>And this question meant to say--</p>
-<p>&quot;You who know the house through the servant, has the master
- spoken sometimes of me?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, you'd do well to go there.&quot;</p>
-<p>She dressed, put on her black gown, and her hood with jet beads,
- and that she might not be seen (there was still a crowd on the
- Place), she took the path by the river, outside the village.</p>
-<p>She reached the notary's gate quite breathless. The sky was
- sombre, and a little snow was falling. At the sound of the bell,
- Theodore in a red waistcoat appeared on the steps; he came to
- open the door almost familiarly, as to an acquaintance, and
- showed her into the dining-room.</p>
-<p>A large porcelain stove crackled beneath a cactus that filled up
- the niche in the wall, and in black wood frames against the
- oak-stained paper hung Steuben's &quot;Esmeralda&quot; and Schopin's
- &quot;Potiphar.&quot; The ready-laid table, the two silver chafing-dishes,
- the crystal door-knobs, the parquet and the furniture, all shone
- with a scrupulous, English cleanliness; the windows were
- ornamented at each corner with stained glass.</p>
-<p>&quot;Now this,&quot; thought Emma, &quot;is the dining-room I ought to have.&quot;</p>
-<p>The notary came in pressing his palm-leaf dressing-gown to his
- breast with his left arm, while with the other hand he raised and
- quickly put on again his brown velvet cap, pretentiously cocked
- on the right side, whence looked out the ends of three fair curls
- drawn from the back of the head, following the line of his bald
- skull.</p>
-<p>After he had offered her a seat he sat down to breakfast,
- apologising profusely for his rudeness.</p>
-<p>&quot;I have come,&quot; she said, &quot;to beg you, sir--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What, madame? I am listening.&quot;</p>
-<p>And she began explaining her position to him. Monsieur Guillaumin
- knew it, being secretly associated with the linendraper, from
- whom he always got capital for the loans on mortgages that he was
- asked to make.</p>
-<p>So he knew (and better than she herself) the long story of the
- bills, small at first, bearing different names as endorsers, made
- out at long dates, and constantly renewed up to the day, when,
- gathering together all the protested bills, the shopkeeper had
- bidden his friend Vincart take in his own name all the necessary
- proceedings, not wishing to pass for a tiger with his
- fellow-citizens.</p>
-<p>She mingled her story with recriminations against Lheureux, to
- which the notary replied from time to time with some
- insignificant word. Eating his cutlet and drinking his tea, he
- buried his chin in his sky-blue cravat, into which were thrust
- two diamond pins, held together by a small gold chain; and he
- smiled a singular smile, in a sugary, ambiguous fashion. But
- noticing that her feet were damp, he said--</p>
-<p>&quot;Do get closer to the stove; put your feet up against the
- porcelain.&quot;</p>
-<p>She was afraid of dirtying it. The notary replied in a gallant
- tone--</p>
-<p>&quot;Beautiful things spoil nothing.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then she tried to move him, and, growing moved herself, she began
- telling him about the poorness of her home, her worries, her
- wants. He could understand that; an elegant woman! and, without
- leaving off eating, he had turned completely round towards her,
- so that his knee brushed against her boot, whose sole curled
- round as it smoked against the stove.</p>
-<p>But when she asked for a thousand sous, he closed his lips, and
- declared he was very sorry he had not had the management of her
- fortune before, for there were hundreds of ways very convenient,
- even for a lady, of turning her money to account. They might,
- either in the turf-peats of Grumesnil or building-ground at
- Havre, almost without risk, have ventured on some excellent
- speculations; and he let her consume herself with rage at the
- thought of the fabulous sums that she would certainly have made.</p>
-<p>&quot;How was it,&quot; he went on, &quot;that you didn't come to me?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I hardly know,&quot; she said.</p>
-<p>&quot;Why, hey? Did I frighten you so much? It is I, on the contrary,
- who ought to complain. We hardly know one another; yet I am very
- devoted to you. You do not doubt that, I hope?&quot;</p>
-<p>He held out his hand, took hers, covered it with a greedy kiss,
- then held it on his knee; and he played delicately with her
- fingers whilst he murmured a thousand blandishments. His insipid
- voice murmured like a running brook; a light shone in his eyes
- through the glimmering of his spectacles, and his hand was
- advancing up Emma's sleeve to press her arm. She felt against her
- cheek his panting breath. This man oppressed her horribly.</p>
-<p>She sprang up and said to him--</p>
-<p>&quot;Sir, I am waiting.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;For what?&quot; said the notary, who suddenly became very pale.</p>
-<p>&quot;This money.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But--&quot; Then, yielding to the outburst of too powerful a desire,
- &quot;Well, yes!&quot;</p>
-<p>He dragged himself towards her on his knees, regardless of his
- dressing-gown.</p>
-<p>&quot;For pity's sake, stay. I love you!&quot;</p>
-<p>He seized her by her waist. Madame Bovary's face flushed purple.
- She recoiled with a terrible look, crying--</p>
-<p>&quot;You are taking a shameless advantage of my distress, sir! I am
- to be pitied--not to be sold.&quot;</p>
-<p>And she went out.</p>
-<p>The notary remained quite stupefied, his eyes fixed on his fine
- embroidered slippers. They were a love gift, and the sight of
- them at last consoled him. Besides, he reflected that such an
- adventure might have carried him too far.</p>
-<p>&quot;What a wretch! what a scoundrel! what an infamy!&quot; she said to
- herself, as she fled with nervous steps beneath the aspens of the
- path. The disappointment of her failure increased the indignation
- of her outraged modesty; it seemed to her that Providence pursued
- her implacably, and, strengthening herself in her pride, she had
- never felt so much esteem for herself nor so much contempt for
- others. A spirit of warfare transformed her. She would have liked
- to strike all men, to spit in their faces, to crush them, and she
- walked rapidly straight on, pale, quivering, maddened, searching
- the empty horizon with tear-dimmed eyes, and as it were rejoicing
- in the hate that was choking her.</p>
-<p>When she saw her house a numbness came over her. She could not go
- on; and yet she must. Besides, whither could she flee?</p>
-<p>Felicite was waiting for her at the door. &quot;Well?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No!&quot; said Emma.</p>
-<p>And for a quarter of an hour the two of them went over the
- various persons in Yonville who might perhaps be inclined to help
- her. But each time that Felicite named someone Emma replied--</p>
-<p>&quot;Impossible! they will not!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;And the master'll soon be in.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I know that well enough. Leave me alone.&quot;</p>
-<p>She had tried everything; there was nothing more to be done now;
- and when Charles came in she would have to say to him--</p>
-<p>&quot;Go away! This carpet on which you are walking is no longer ours.
- In your own house you do not possess a chair, a pin, a straw, and
- it is I, poor man, who have ruined you.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then there would be a great sob; next he would weep abundantly,
- and at last, the surprise past, he would forgive her.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; she murmured, grinding her teeth, &quot;he will forgive me,
- he
- who would give a million if I would forgive him for having known
- me! Never! never!&quot;</p>
-<p>This thought of Bovary's superiority to her exasperated her.
- Then, whether she confessed or did not confess, presently,
- immediately, to-morrow, he would know the catastrophe all the
- same; so she must wait for this horrible scene, and bear the
- weight of his magnanimity. The desire to return to Lheureux's
- seized her--what would be the use? To write to her father--it was
- too late; and perhaps, she began to repent now that she had not
- yielded to that other, when she heard the trot of a horse in the
- alley. It was he; he was opening the gate; he was whiter than the
- plaster wall. Rushing to the stairs, she ran out quickly to the
- square; and the wife of the mayor, who was talking to
- Lestiboudois in front of the church, saw her go in to the
- tax-collector's.</p>
-<p>She hurried off to tell Madame Caron, and the two ladies went up
- to the attic, and, hidden by some linen spread across props,
- stationed themselves comfortably for overlooking the whole of
- Binet's room.</p>
-<p>He was alone in his garret, busy imitating in wood one of those
- indescribable bits of ivory, composed of crescents, of spheres
- hollowed out one within the other, the whole as straight as an
- obelisk, and of no use whatever; and he was beginning on the last
- piece--he was nearing his goal. In the twilight of the workshop
- the white dust was flying from his tools like a shower of sparks
- under the hoofs of a galloping horse; the two wheels were
- turning, droning; Binet smiled, his chin lowered, his nostrils
- distended, and, in a word, seemed lost in one of those complete
- happinesses that, no doubt, belong only to commonplace
- occupations, which amuse the mind with facile difficulties, and
- satisfy by a realisation of that beyond which such minds have not
- a dream.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! there she is!&quot; exclaimed Madame Tuvache.</p>
-<p>But it was impossible because of the lathe to hear what she was
- saying.</p>
-<p>At last these ladies thought they made out the word &quot;francs,&quot; and
- Madame Tuvache whispered in a low voice--</p>
-<p>&quot;She is begging him to give her time for paying her taxes.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Apparently!&quot; replied the other.</p>
-<p>They saw her walking up and down, examining the napkin-rings, the
- candlesticks, the banister rails against the walls, while Binet
- stroked his beard with satisfaction.</p>
-<p>&quot;Do you think she wants to order something of him?&quot; said Madame
- Tuvache.</p>
-<p>&quot;Why, he doesn't sell anything,&quot; objected her neighbour.</p>
-<p>The tax-collector seemed to be listening with wide-open eyes, as
- if he did not understand. She went on in a tender, suppliant
- manner. She came nearer to him, her breast heaving; they no
- longer spoke.</p>
-<p>&quot;Is she making him advances?&quot; said Madame Tuvache. Binet was
- scarlet to his very ears. She took hold of his hands.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, it's too much!&quot;</p>
-<p>And no doubt she was suggesting something abominable to him; for
- the tax-collector--yet he was brave, had fought at Bautzen and at
- Lutzen, had been through the French campaign, and had even been
- recommended for the cross--suddenly, as at the sight of a
- serpent, recoiled as far as he could from her, crying--</p>
-<p>&quot;Madame! what do you mean?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Women like that ought to be whipped,&quot; said Madame Tuvache.</p>
-<p>&quot;But where is she?&quot; continued Madame Caron, for she had
- disappeared whilst they spoke; then catching sight of her going
- up the Grande Rue, and turning to the right as if making for the
- cemetery, they were lost in conjectures.</p>
-<p>&quot;Nurse Rollet,&quot; she said on reaching the nurse's, &quot;I am choking;
- unlace me!&quot; She fell on the bed sobbing. Nurse Rollet covered her
- with a petticoat and remained standing by her side. Then, as she
- did not answer, the good woman withdrew, took her wheel and began
- spinning flax.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, leave off!&quot; she murmured, fancying she heard Binet's lathe.</p>
-<p>&quot;What's bothering her?&quot; said the nurse to herself. &quot;Why has
- she
- come here?&quot;</p>
-<p>She had rushed thither; impelled by a kind of horror that drove
- her from her home.</p>
-<p>Lying on her back, motionless, and with staring eyes, she saw
- things but vaguely, although she tried to with idiotic
- persistence. She looked at the scales on the walls, two brands
- smoking end to end, and a long spider crawling over her head in a
- rent in the beam. At last she began to collect her thoughts. She
- remembered--one day--Leon--Oh! how long ago that was--the sun was
- shining on the river, and the clematis were perfuming the air.
- Then, carried away as by a rushing torrent, she soon began to
- recall the day before.</p>
-<p>&quot;What time is it?&quot; she asked.</p>
-<p>Mere Rollet went out, raised the fingers of her right hand to
- that side of the sky that was brightest, and came back slowly,
- saying--</p>
-<p>&quot;Nearly three.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ahl thanks, thanks!&quot;</p>
-<p>For he would come; he would have found some money. But he would,
- perhaps, go down yonder, not guessing she was here, and she told
- the nurse to run to her house to fetch him.</p>
-<p>&quot;Be quick!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But, my dear lady, I'm going, I'm going!&quot;</p>
-<p>She wondered now that she had not thought of him from the first.
- Yesterday he had given his word; he would not break it. And she
- already saw herself at Lheureux's spreading out her three
- bank-notes on his bureau. Then she would have to invent some
- story to explain matters to Bovary. What should it be?</p>
-<p>The nurse, however, was a long while gone. But, as there was no
- clock in the cot, Emma feared she was perhaps exaggerating the
- length of time. She began walking round the garden, step by step;
- she went into the path by the hedge, and returned quickly, hoping
- that the woman would have come back by another road. At last,
- weary of waiting, assailed by fears that she thrust from her, no
- longer conscious whether she had been here a century or a moment,
- she sat down in a corner, closed her eyes, and stopped her ears.
- The gate grated; she sprang up. Before she had spoken Mere Rollet
- said to her--</p>
-<p>&quot;There is no one at your house!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, no one! And the doctor is crying. He is calling for you;
- they're looking for you.&quot;</p>
-<p>Emma answered nothing. She gasped as she turned her eyes about her, while the
- peasant woman, frightened at her face, drew back instinctively, thinking her
- mad. Suddenly she struck her brow and uttered a cry; for the thought of Rodolphe,
- like a flash of lightning in a dark night, had passed into her soul. He was
- so good, so delicate, so generous! And besides, should he hesitate to do her
- this service, she would know well enough how to constrain him to it by re-waking,
- in a single moment, their lost love. So she set out towards La Huchette, not
- seeing that she was hastening to offer herself to that which but a while ago
- had so angered her, not in the least conscious of her prostitution.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Eight</h3>
-<p>She asked herself as she walked along, &quot;What am I going to say? How shall
- I begin?&quot; And as she went on she recognised the thickets, the trees, the
- sea-rushes on the hill, the chateau yonder. All the sensations of her first
- tenderness came back to her, and her poor aching heart opened out amorously.
- A warm wind blew in her face; the melting snow fell drop by drop from the buds
- to the grass. </p>
-<p>She entered, as she used to, through the small park-gate. She
- reached the avenue bordered by a double row of dense lime-trees.
- They were swaying their long whispering branches to and fro. The
- dogs in their kennels all barked, and the noise of their voices
- resounded, but brought out no one.</p>
-<p>She went up the large straight staircase with wooden balusters
- that led to the corridor paved with dusty flags, into which
- several doors in a row opened, as in a monastery or an inn. His
- was at the top, right at the end, on the left. When she placed
- her fingers on the lock her strength suddenly deserted her. She
- was afraid, almost wished he would not be there, though this was
- her only hope, her last chance of salvation. She collected her
- thoughts for one moment, and, strengthening herself by the
- feeling of present necessity, went in.</p>
-<p>He was in front of the fire, both his feet on the mantelpiece,
- smoking a pipe.</p>
-<p>&quot;What! it is you!&quot; he said, getting up hurriedly.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, it is I, Rodolphe. I should like to ask your advice.&quot;</p>
-<p>And, despite all her efforts, it was impossible for her to
- open her lips.</p>
-<p>&quot;You have not changed; you are charming as ever!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; she replied bitterly, &quot;they are poor charms since you
- disdained them.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then he began a long explanation of his conduct, excusing himself
- in vague terms, in default of being able to invent better.</p>
-<p>She yielded to his words, still more to his voice and the sight
- of him, so that, she pretended to believe, or perhaps believed;
- in the pretext he gave for their rupture; this was a secret on
- which depended the honour, the very life of a third person.</p>
-<p>&quot;No matter!&quot; she said, looking at him sadly. &quot;I have suffered
- much.&quot;</p>
-<p>He replied philosophically--</p>
-<p>&quot;Such is life!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Has life,&quot; Emma went on, &quot;been good to you at least, since
- our
- separation?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, neither good nor bad.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Perhaps it would have been better never to have parted.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, perhaps.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;You think so?&quot; she said, drawing nearer, and she sighed. &quot;Oh,
- Rodolphe! if you but knew! I loved you so!&quot;</p>
-<p>It was then that she took his hand, and they remained some time,
- their fingers intertwined, like that first day at the Show. With
- a gesture of pride he struggled against this emotion. But sinking
- upon his breast she said to him--</p>
-<p>&quot;How did you think I could live without you? One cannot lose the
- habit of happiness. I was desolate. I thought I should die. I
- will tell you about all that and you will see. And you--you fled
- from me!&quot;</p>
-<p>For, all the three years, he had carefully avoided her in
- consequence of that natural cowardice that characterises the
- stronger sex. Emma went on, with dainty little nods, more coaxing
- than an amorous kitten--</p>
-<p>&quot;You love others, confess it! Oh, I understand them, dear! I
- excuse them. You probably seduced them as you seduced me. You are
- indeed a man; you have everything to make one love you. But we'll
- begin again, won't we? We will love one another. See! I am
- laughing; I am happy! Oh, speak!&quot;</p>
-<p>And she was charming to see, with her eyes, in which trembled a
- tear, like the rain of a storm in a blue corolla.</p>
-<p>He had drawn her upon his knees, and with the back of his hand
- was caressing her smooth hair, where in the twilight was mirrored
- like a golden arrow one last ray of the sun. She bent down her
- brow; at last he kissed her on the eyelids quite gently with the
- tips of his lips.</p>
-<p>&quot;Why, you have been crying! What for?&quot;</p>
-<p>She burst into tears. Rodolphe thought this was an outburst of
- her love. As she did not speak, he took this silence for a last
- remnant of resistance, and then he cried out--</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, forgive me! You are the only one who pleases me. I was
- imbecile and cruel. I love you. I will love you always. What is
- it. Tell me!&quot; He was kneeling by her.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, I am ruined, Rodolphe! You must lend me three thousand
- francs.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But--but--&quot; said he, getting up slowly, while his face assumed a
- grave expression.</p>
-<p>&quot;You know,&quot; she went on quickly, &quot;that my husband had placed
- his
- whole fortune at a notary's. He ran away. So we borrowed; the
- patients don't pay us. Moreover, the settling of the estate is
- not yet done; we shall have the money later on. But to-day, for
- want of three thousand francs, we are to be sold up. It is to be
- at once, this very moment, and, counting upon your friendship, I
- have come to you.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah!&quot; thought Rodolphe, turning very pale, &quot;that was what she
- came for.&quot; At last he said with a calm air--</p>
-<p>&quot;Dear madame, I have not got them.&quot;</p>
-<p>He did not lie. If he had had them, he would, no doubt, have
- given them, although it is generally disagreeable to do such fine
- things: a demand for money being, of all the winds that blow upon
- love, the coldest and most destructive.</p>
-<p>First she looked at him for some moments.</p>
-<p>&quot;You have not got them!&quot; she repeated several times. &quot;You have
- not got them! I ought to have spared myself this last shame. You
- never loved me. You are no better than the others.&quot;</p>
-<p>She was betraying, ruining herself.</p>
-<p>Rodolphe interrupted her, declaring he was &quot;hard up&quot; himself.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! I pity you,&quot; said Emma. &quot;Yes--very much.&quot;</p>
-<p>And fixing her eyes upon an embossed carabine, that shone against
- its panoply, &quot;But when one is so poor one doesn't have silver on
- the butt of one's gun. One doesn't buy a clock inlaid with
- tortoise shell,&quot; she went on, pointing to a buhl timepiece, &quot;nor
- silver-gilt whistles for one's whips,&quot; and she touched them, &quot;nor
- charms for one's watch. Oh, he wants for nothing! even to a
- liqueur-stand in his room! For you love yourself; you live well.
- You have a chateau, farms, woods; you go hunting; you travel to
- Paris. Why, if it were but that,&quot; she cried, taking up two studs
- from the mantelpiece, &quot;but the least of these trifles, one can
- get money for them. Oh, I do not want them, keep them!&quot;</p>
-<p>And she threw the two links away from her, their gold chain
- breaking as it struck against the wall.</p>
-<p>&quot;But I! I would have given you everything. I would have sold all,
- worked for you with my hands, I would have begged on the
- highroads for a smile, for a look, to hear you say 'Thanks!' And
- you sit there quietly in your arm-chair, as if you had not made
- me suffer enough already! But for you, and you know it, I might
- have lived happily. What made you do it? Was it a bet? Yet you
- loved me--you said so. And but a moment since--Ah! it would have
- been better to have driven me away. My hands are hot with your
- kisses, and there is the spot on the carpet where at my knees you
- swore an eternity of love! You made me believe you; for two years
- you held me in the most magnificent, the sweetest dream! Eh! Our
- plans for the journey, do you remember? Oh, your letter! your
- letter! it tore my heart! And then when I come back to him--to
- him, rich, happy, free--to implore the help the first stranger
- would give, a suppliant, and bringing back to him all my
- tenderness, he repulses me because it would cost him three
- thousand francs!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I haven't got them,&quot; replied Rodolphe, with that perfect calm
- with which resigned rage covers itself as with a shield.</p>
-<p>She went out. The walls trembled, the ceiling was crushing her,
- and she passed back through the long alley, stumbling against the
- heaps of dead leaves scattered by the wind. At last she reached
- the ha-ha hedge in front of the gate; she broke her nails against
- the lock in her haste to open it. Then a hundred steps farther
- on, breathless, almost falling, she stopped. And now turning
- round, she once more saw the impassive chateau, with the park,
- the gardens, the three courts, and all the windows of the facade.</p>
-<p>She remained lost in stupor, and having no more consciousness of
- herself than through the beating of her arteries, that she seemed
- to hear bursting forth like a deafening music filling all the
- fields. The earth beneath her feet was more yielding than the
- sea, and the furrows seemed to her immense brown waves breaking
- into foam. Everything in her head, of memories, ideas, went off
- at once like a thousand pieces of fireworks. She saw her father,
- Lheureux's closet, their room at home, another landscape. Madness
- was coming upon her; she grew afraid, and managed to recover
- herself, in a confused way, it is true, for she did not in the,
- least remember the cause of the terrible condition she was in,
- that is to say, the question of money. She suffered only in her
- love, and felt her soul passing from her in this memory; as
- wounded men, dying, feel their life ebb from their bleeding
- wounds.</p>
-<p>Night was falling, crows were flying about.</p>
-<p>Suddenly it seemed to her that fiery spheres were exploding in
- the air like fulminating balls when they strike, and were
- whirling, whirling, to melt at last upon the snow between the
- branches of the trees. In the midst of each of them appeared the
- face of Rodolphe. They multiplied and drew near her, penetrating,
- her. It all disappeared; she recognised the lights of the houses
- that shone through the fog.</p>
-<p>Now her situation, like an abyss, rose up before her. She was
- panting as if her heart would burst. Then in an ecstasy of
- heroism, that made her almost joyous, she ran down the hill,
- crossed the cow-plank, the foot-path, the alley, the market, and
- reached the chemist's shop. She was about to enter, but at the
- sound of the bell someone might come, and slipping in by the
- gate, holding her breath, feeling her way along the walls, she
- went as far as the door of the kitchen, where a candle stuck on
- the stove was burning. Justin in his shirt-sleeves was carrying
- out a dish.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! they are dining; I will wait.&quot;</p>
-<p>He returned; she tapped at the window. He went out.</p>
-<p>&quot;The key! the one for upstairs where he keeps the--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What?&quot;</p>
-<p>And he looked at her, astonished at the pallor of her face, that
- stood out white against the black background of the night. She
- seemed to him extraordinarily beautiful and majestic as a
- phantom. Without understanding what she wanted, he had the
- presentiment of something terrible.</p>
-<p>But she went on quickly in a love voice; in a sweet, melting
- voice, &quot;I want it; give it to me.&quot;</p>
-<p>As the partition wall was thin, they could hear the clatter of
- the forks on the plates in the dining-room.</p>
-<p>She pretended that she wanted to kill the rats that kept her from
- sleeping.</p>
-<p>&quot;I must tell master.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;No, stay!&quot; Then with an indifferent air, &quot;Oh, it's not worth
- while; I'll tell him presently. Come, light me upstairs.&quot;</p>
-<p>She entered the corridor into which the laboratory door opened.
- Against the wall was a key labelled Capharnaum.</p>
-<p>&quot;Justin!&quot; called the druggist impatiently.</p>
-<p>&quot;Let us go up.&quot;</p>
-<p>And he followed her. The key turned in the lock, and she went
- straight to the third shelf, so well did her memory guide her,
- seized the blue jar, tore out the cork, plunged in her hand, and
- withdrawing it full of a white powder, she began eating it.</p>
-<p>&quot;Stop!&quot; he cried, rushing at her.</p>
-<p>&quot;Hush! someone will come.&quot;</p>
-<p>He was in despair, was calling out.</p>
-<p>&quot;Say nothing, or all the blame will fall on your master.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then she went home, suddenly calmed, and with something of the
- serenity of one that had performed a duty.</p>
-<p>When Charles, distracted by the news of the distraint, returned
- home, Emma had just gone out. He cried aloud, wept, fainted, but
- she did not return. Where could she be? He sent Felicite to
- Homais, to Monsieur Tuvache, to Lheureux, to the &quot;Lion d'Or,&quot;
- everywhere, and in the intervals of his agony he saw his
- reputation destroyed, their fortune lost, Berthe's future ruined.
- By what?--Not a word! He waited till six in the evening. At last,
- unable to bear it any longer, and fancying she had gone to Rouen,
- he set out along the highroad, walked a mile, met no one, again
- waited, and returned home. She had come back.</p>
-<p>&quot;What was the matter? Why? Explain to me.&quot;</p>
-<p>She sat down at her writing-table and wrote a letter, which she
- sealed slowly, adding the date and the hour. Then she said in a
- solemn tone:</p>
-<p>&quot;You are to read it to-morrow; till then, I pray you, do not ask
- me a single question. No, not one!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, leave me!&quot;</p>
-<p>She lay down full length on her bed. A bitter taste that she felt
- in her mouth awakened her. She saw Charles, and again closed her
- eyes.</p>
-<p>She was studying herself curiously, to see if she were not
- suffering. But no! nothing as yet. She heard the ticking of the
- clock, the crackling of the fire, and Charles breathing as he
- stood upright by her bed.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ahl it is but a little thing, death!&quot; she thought. &quot;I shall
- fall
- asleep and all will be over.&quot;</p>
-<p>She drank a mouthful of water and turned to the wall. The
- frightful taste of ink continued.</p>
-<p>&quot;I am thirsty; oh! so thirsty,&quot; she sighed.</p>
-<p>&quot;What is it?&quot; said Charles, who was handing her a glass.</p>
-<p>&quot;It is nothing! Open the window; I am choking.&quot;</p>
-<p>She was seized with a sickness so sudden that she had hardly time
- to draw out her handkerchief from under the pillow.</p>
-<p>&quot;Take it away,&quot; she said quickly; &quot;throw it away.&quot;</p>
-<p>He spoke to her; she did not answer. She lay motionless, afraid
- that the slightest movement might make her vomit. But she felt an
- icy cold creeping from her feet to her heart.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! it is beginning,&quot; she murmured.</p>
-<p>&quot;What did you say?&quot;</p>
-<p>She turned her head from side to side with a gentle movement full
- of agony, while constantly opening her mouth as if something very
- heavy were weighing upon her tongue. At eight o'clock the
- vomiting began again.</p>
-<p>Charles noticed that at the bottom of the basin there was a sort
- of white sediment sticking to the sides of the porcelain.</p>
-<p>&quot;This is extraordinary--very singular,&quot; he repeated.</p>
-<p>But she said in a firm voice, &quot;No, you are mistaken.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then gently, and almost as caressing her, he passed his hand over
- her stomach. She uttered a sharp cry. He fell back
- terror-stricken.</p>
-<p>Then she began to groan, faintly at first. Her shoulders were
- shaken by a strong shuddering, and she was growing paler than the
- sheets in which her clenched fingers buried themselves. Her
- unequal pulse was now almost imperceptible.</p>
-<p>Drops of sweat oozed from her bluish face, that seemed as if
- rigid in the exhalations of a metallic vapour. Her teeth
- chattered, her dilated eyes looked vaguely about her, and to all
- questions she replied only with a shake of the head; she even
- smiled once or twice. Gradually, her moaning grew louder; a
- hollow shriek burst from her; she pretended she was better and
- that she would get up presently. But she was seized with
- convulsions and cried out--</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! my God! It is horrible!&quot;</p>
-<p>He threw himself on his knees by her bed.</p>
-<p>&quot;Tell me! what have you eaten? Answer, for heaven's sake!&quot;</p>
-<p>And he looked at her with a tenderness in his eyes such as she
- had never seen.</p>
-<p>&quot;Well, there--there!&quot; she said in a faint voice. He flew to the
- writing-table, tore open the seal, and read aloud: &quot;Accuse no
- one.&quot; He stopped, passed his hands across his eyes, and read it
- over again.</p>
-<p>&quot;What! help--help!&quot;</p>
-<p>He could only keep repeating the word: &quot;Poisoned! poisoned!&quot;
- Felicite ran to Homais, who proclaimed it in the market-place;
- Madame Lefrancois heard it at the &quot;Lion d'Or&quot;; some got up to go
- and tell their neighbours, and all night the village was on the
- alert.</p>
-<p>Distraught, faltering, reeling, Charles wandered about the room.
- He knocked against the furniture, tore his hair, and the chemist
- had never believed that there could be so terrible a sight.</p>
-<p>He went home to write to Monsieur Canivet and to Doctor
- Lariviere. He lost his head, and made more than fifteen rough
- copies. Hippolyte went to Neufchatel, and Justin so spurred
- Bovary's horse that he left it foundered and three parts dead by
- the hill at Bois-Guillaume.</p>
-<p>Charles tried to look up his medical dictionary, but could not
- read it; the lines were dancing.</p>
-<p>&quot;Be calm,&quot; said the druggist; &quot;we have only to administer a
- powerful antidote. What is the poison?&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles showed him the letter. It was arsenic.</p>
-<p>&quot;Very well,&quot; said Homais, &quot;we must make an analysis.&quot;</p>
-<p>For he knew that in cases of poisoning an analysis must be made;
- and the other, who did not understand, answered--</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, do anything! save her!&quot;</p>
-<p>Then going back to her, he sank upon the carpet, and lay there
- with his head leaning against the edge of her bed, sobbing.</p>
-<p>&quot;Don't cry,&quot; she said to him. &quot;Soon I shall not trouble you
- any
- more.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why was it? Who drove you to it?&quot;</p>
-<p>She replied. &quot;It had to be, my dear!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Weren't you happy? Is it my fault? I did all I could!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes, that is true--you are good--you.&quot;</p>
-<p>And she passed her hand slowly over his hair. The sweetness of
- this sensation deepened his sadness; he felt his whole being
- dissolving in despair at the thought that he must lose her, just
- when she was confessing more love for him than ever. And he could
- think of nothing; he did not know, he did not dare; the urgent
- need for some immediate resolution gave the finishing stroke to
- the turmoil of his mind.</p>
-<p>So she had done, she thought, with all the treachery; and
- meanness, and numberless desires that had tortured her. She hated
- no one now; a twilight dimness was settling upon her thoughts,
- and, of all earthly noises, Emma heard none but the intermittent
- lamentations of this poor heart, sweet and indistinct like the
- echo of a symphony dying away.</p>
-<p>&quot;Bring me the child,&quot; she said, raising herself on her elbow.</p>
-<p>&quot;You are not worse, are you?&quot; asked Charles.</p>
-<p>&quot;No, no!&quot;</p>
-<p>The child, serious, and still half-asleep, was carried in on the
- servant's arm in her long white nightgown, from which her bare
- feet peeped out. She looked wonderingly at the disordered room,
- and half-closed her eyes, dazzled by the candles burning on the
- table. They reminded her, no doubt, of the morning of New Year's
- day and Mid-Lent, when thus awakened early by candle-light she
- came to her mother's bed to fetch her presents, for she began
- saying--</p>
-<p>&quot;But where is it, mamma?&quot; And as everybody was silent, &quot;But
- I
- can't see my little stocking.&quot;</p>
-<p>Felicite held her over the bed while she still kept looking
- towards the mantelpiece.</p>
-<p>&quot;Has nurse taken it?&quot; she asked.</p>
-<p>And at this name, that carried her back to the memory of her
- adulteries and her calamities, Madame Bovary turned away her
- head, as at the loathing of another bitterer poison that rose to
- her mouth. But Berthe remained perched on the bed.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, how big your eyes are, mamma! How pale you are! how hot you
- are!&quot;</p>
-<p>Her mother looked at her. &quot;I am frightened!&quot; cried the child,
- recoiling.</p>
-<p>Emma took her hand to kiss it; the child struggled.</p>
-<p>&quot;That will do. Take her away,&quot; cried Charles, who was sobbing in
- the alcove.</p>
-<p>Then the symptoms ceased for a moment; she seemed less agitated;
- and at every insignificant word, at every respiration a little
- more easy, he regained hope. At last, when Canivet came in, he
- threw himself into his arms.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! it is you. Thanks! You are good! But she is better. See!
- look at her.&quot;</p>
-<p>His colleague was by no means of this opinion, and, as he said of
- himself, &quot;never beating about the bush,&quot; he prescribed, an emetic
- in order to empty the stomach completely.</p>
-<p>She soon began vomiting blood. Her lips became drawn. Her limbs
- were convulsed, her whole body covered with brown spots, and her
- pulse slipped beneath the fingers like a stretched thread, like a
- harp-string nearly breaking.</p>
-<p>After this she began to scream horribly. She cursed the poison,
- railed at it, and implored it to be quick, and thrust away with
- her stiffened arms everything that Charles, in more agony than
- herself, tried to make her drink. He stood up, his handkerchief
- to his lips, with a rattling sound in his throat, weeping, and
- choked by sobs that shook his whole body. Felicite was running
- hither and thither in the room. Homais, motionless, uttered great
- sighs; and Monsieur Canivet, always retaining his self-command,
- nevertheless began to feel uneasy.</p>
-<p>&quot;The devil! yet she has been purged, and from the moment that the
- cause ceases--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;The effect must cease,&quot; said Homais, &quot;that is evident.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, save her!&quot; cried Bovary.</p>
-<p>And, without listening to the chemist, who was still venturing
- the hypothesis, &quot;It is perhaps a salutary paroxysm,&quot; Canivet was
- about to administer some theriac, when they heard the cracking of
- a whip; all the windows rattled, and a post-chaise drawn by three
- horses abreast, up to their ears in mud, drove at a gallop round
- the corner of the market. It was Doctor Lariviere.</p>
-<p>The apparition of a god would not have caused more commotion.
- Bovary raised his hands; Canivet stopped short; and Homais pulled
- off his skull-cap long before the doctor had come in.</p>
-<p>He belonged to that great school of surgery begotten of Bichat,
- to that generation, now extinct, of philosophical practitioners,
- who, loving their art with a fanatical love, exercised it with
- enthusiasm and wisdom. Everyone in his hospital trembled when he
- was angry; and his students so revered him that they tried, as
- soon as they were themselves in practice, to imitate him as much
- as possible. So that in all the towns about they were found
- wearing his long wadded merino overcoat and black frock-coat,
- whose buttoned cuffs slightly covered his brawny hands--very
- beautiful hands, and that never knew gloves, as though to be more
- ready to plunge into suffering. Disdainful of honours, of titles,
- and of academies, like one of the old Knight-Hospitallers,
- generous, fatherly to the poor, and practising virtue without
- believing in it, he would almost have passed for a saint if the
- keenness of his intellect had not caused him to be feared as a
- demon. His glance, more penetrating than his bistouries, looked
- straight into your soul, and dissected every lie athwart all
- assertions and all reticences. And thus he went along, full of
- that debonair majesty that is given by the consciousness of great
- talent, of fortune, and of forty years of a labourious and
- irreproachable life.</p>
-<p>He frowned as soon as he had passed the door when he saw the
- cadaverous face of Emma stretched out on her back with her mouth
- open. Then, while apparently listening to Canivet, he rubbed his
- fingers up and down beneath his nostrils, and repeated--</p>
-<p>&quot;Good! good!&quot;</p>
-<p>But he made a slow gesture with his shoulders. Bovary watched
- him; they looked at one another; and this man, accustomed as he
- was to the sight of pain, could not keep back a tear that fell on
- his shirt-frill.</p>
-<p>He tried to take Canivet into the next room. Charles followed
- him.</p>
-<p>&quot;She is very ill, isn't she? If we put on sinapisms? Anything!
- Oh, think of something, you who have saved so many!&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles caught him in both his arms, and gazed at him wildly,
- imploringly, half-fainting against his breast.</p>
-<p>&quot;Come, my poor fellow, courage! There is nothing more to be
- done.&quot;</p>
-<p>And Doctor Lariviere turned away.</p>
-<p>&quot;You are going?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I will come back.&quot;</p>
-<p>He went out only to give an order to the coachman, with Monsieur
- Canivet, who did not care either to have Emma die under his
- hands.</p>
-<p>The chemist rejoined them on the Place. He could not by
- temperament keep away from celebrities, so he begged Monsieur
- Lariviere to do him the signal honour of accepting some
- breakfast.</p>
-<p>He sent quickly to the &quot;Lion d'Or&quot; for some pigeons; to the
- butcher's for all the cutlets that were to be had; to Tuvache for
- cream; and to Lestiboudois for eggs; and the druggist himself
- aided in the preparations, while Madame Homais was saying as she
- pulled together the strings of her jacket--</p>
-<p>&quot;You must excuse us, sir, for in this poor place, when one hasn't
- been told the night before--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Wine glasses!&quot; whispered Homais.</p>
-<p>&quot;If only we were in town, we could fall back upon stuffed
- trotters.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Be quiet! Sit down, doctor!&quot;</p>
-<p>He thought fit, after the first few mouthfuls, to give some
- details as to the catastrophe.</p>
-<p>&quot;We first had a feeling of siccity in the pharynx, then
- intolerable pains at the epigastrium, super purgation, coma.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But how did she poison herself?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I don't know, doctor, and I don't even know where she can have
- procured the arsenious acid.&quot;</p>
-<p>Justin, who was just bringing in a pile of plates, began to
- tremble.</p>
-<p>&quot;What's the matter?&quot; said the chemist.</p>
-<p>At this question the young man dropped the whole lot on the
- ground with a crash.</p>
-<p>&quot;Imbecile!&quot; cried Homais. &quot;awkward lout! block-head! confounded
- ass!&quot;</p>
-<p>But suddenly controlling himself--</p>
-<p>&quot;I wished, doctor, to make an analysis, and primo I delicately
- introduced a tube--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;You would have done better,&quot; said the physician, &quot;to introduce
- your fingers into her throat.&quot;</p>
-<p>His colleague was silent, having just before privately received a
- severe lecture about his emetic, so that this good Canivet, so
- arrogant and so verbose at the time of the clubfoot, was to-day
- very modest. He smiled without ceasing in an approving manner.</p>
-<p>Homais dilated in Amphytrionic pride, and the affecting thought
- of Bovary vaguely contributed to his pleasure by a kind of
- egotistic reflex upon himself. Then the presence of the doctor
- transported him. He displayed his erudition, cited pell-mell
- cantharides, upas, the manchineel, vipers.</p>
-<p>&quot;I have even read that various persons have found themselves
- under toxicological symptoms, and, as it were, thunderstricken by
- black-pudding that had been subjected to a too vehement
- fumigation. At least, this was stated in a very fine report drawn
- up by one of our pharmaceutical chiefs, one of our masters, the
- illustrious Cadet de Gassicourt!&quot;</p>
-<p>Madame Homais reappeared, carrying one of those shaky machines
- that are heated with spirits of wine; for Homais liked to make
- his coffee at table, having, moreover, torrefied it, pulverised
- it, and mixed it himself.</p>
-<p>&quot;Saccharum, doctor?&quot; said he, offering the sugar.</p>
-<p>Then he had all his children brought down, anxious to have the
- physician's opinion on their constitutions.</p>
-<p>At last Monsieur Lariviere was about to leave, when Madame Homais
- asked for a consultation about her husband. He was making his
- blood too thick by going to sleep every evening after dinner.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, it isn't his blood that's too thick,&quot; said the physician.</p>
-<p>And, smiling a little at his unnoticed joke, the doctor opened
- the door. But the chemist's shop was full of people; he had the
- greatest difficulty in getting rid of Monsieur Tuvache, who
- feared his spouse would get inflammation of the lungs, because
- she was in the habit of spitting on the ashes; then of Monsieur
- Binet, who sometimes experienced sudden attacks of great hunger;
- and of Madame Caron, who suffered from tinglings; of Lheureux,
- who had vertigo; of Lestiboudois, who had rheumatism; and of
- Madame Lefrancois, who had heartburn. At last the three horses
- started; and it was the general opinion that he had not shown
- himself at all obliging.</p>
-<p>Public attention was distracted by the appearance of Monsieur
- Bournisien, who was going across the market with the holy oil.</p>
-<p>Homais, as was due to his principles, compared priests to ravens
- attracted by the odour of death. The sight of an ecclesiastic was
- personally disagreeable to him, for the cassock made him think of
- the shroud, and he detested the one from some fear of the other.</p>
-<p>Nevertheless, not shrinking from what he called his mission, he
- returned to Bovary's in company with Canivet whom Monsieur
- Lariviere, before leaving, had strongly urged to make this visit;
- and he would, but for his wife's objections, have taken his two
- sons with him, in order to accustom them to great occasions; that
- this might be a lesson, an example, a solemn picture, that should
- remain in their heads later on.</p>
-<p>The room when they went in was full of mournful solemnity. On the
- work-table, covered over with a white cloth, there were five or
- six small balls of cotton in a silver dish, near a large crucifix
- between two lighted candles.</p>
-<p>Emma, her chin sunken upon her breast, had her eyes inordinately
- wide open, and her poor hands wandered over the sheets with that
- hideous and soft movement of the dying, that seems as if they
- wanted already to cover themselves with the shroud. Pale as a
- statue and with eyes red as fire, Charles, not weeping, stood
- opposite her at the foot of the bed, while the priest, bending
- one knee, was muttering words in a low voice.</p>
-<p>She turned her face slowly, and seemed filled with joy on seeing
- suddenly the violet stole, no doubt finding again, in the midst
- of a temporary lull in her pain, the lost voluptuousness of her
- first mystical transports, with the visions of eternal beatitude
- that were beginning.</p>
-<p>The priest rose to take the crucifix; then she stretched forward her neck as
- one who is athirst, and glueing her lips to the body of the Man-God, she pressed
- upon it with all her expiring strength the fullest kiss of love that she had
- ever given. Then he recited the Misereatur and the Indulgentiam, dipped his
- right thumb in the oil, and began to give extreme unction. First upon the eyes,
- that had so coveted all worldly pomp; then upon the nostrils, that had been
- greedy of the warm breeze and amorous odours; then upon the mouth, that had
- uttered lies, that had curled with pride and cried out in lewdness; then upon
- the hands that had delighted in sensual touches; and finally upon the soles
- of the feet, so swift of yore, when she was running to satisfy her desires,
- and that would now walk no more.</p>
-<p>The cure wiped his fingers, threw the bit of cotton dipped in oil
- into the fire, and came and sat down by the dying woman, to tell
- her that she must now blend her sufferings with those of Jesus
- Christ and abandon herself to the divine mercy.</p>
-<p>Finishing his exhortations, he tried to place in her hand a
- blessed candle, symbol of the celestial glory with which she was
- soon to be surrounded. Emma, too weak, could not close her
- fingers, and the taper, but for Monsieur Bournisien would have
- fallen to the ground.</p>
-<p>However, she was not quite so pale, and her face had an
- expression of serenity as if the sacrament had cured her.</p>
-<p>The priest did not fail to point this out; he even explained to
- Bovary that the Lord sometimes prolonged the life of persons when
- he thought it meet for their salvation; and Charles remembered
- the day when, so near death, she had received the communion.
- Perhaps there was no need to despair, he thought.</p>
-<p>In fact, she looked around her slowly, as one awakening from a
- dream; then in a distinct voice she asked for her looking-glass,
- and remained some time bending over it, until the big tears fell
- from her eyes. Then she turned away her head with a sigh and fell
- back upon the pillows.</p>
-<p>Her chest soon began panting rapidly; the whole of her tongue
- protruded from her mouth; her eyes, as they rolled, grew paler,
- like the two globes of a lamp that is going out, so that one
- might have thought her already dead but for the fearful labouring
- of her ribs, shaken by violent breathing, as if the soul were
- struggling to free itself. Felicite knelt down before the
- crucifix, and the druggist himself slightly bent his knees, while
- Monsieur Canivet looked out vaguely at the Place. Bournisien had
- again begun to pray, his face bowed against the edge of the bed,
- his long black cassock trailing behind him in the room. Charles
- was on the other side, on his knees, his arms outstretched
- towards Emma. He had taken her hands and pressed them, shuddering
- at every beat of her heart, as at the shaking of a falling ruin.
- As the death-rattle became stronger the priest prayed faster; his
- prayers mingled with the stifled sobs of Bovary, and sometimes
- all seemed lost in the muffled murmur of the Latin syllables that
- tolled like a passing bell.</p>
-<p>Suddenly on the pavement was heard a loud noise of clogs and the
- clattering of a stick; and a voice rose--a raucous voice--that
- sang--</p>
-<p>&quot;Maids an the warmth of a summer day
- Dream of love and of love always&quot;</p>
-<p>Emma raised herself like a galvanised corpse, her hair undone,
- her eyes fixed, staring.</p>
-<p>&quot;Where the sickle blades have been,
- Nannette, gathering ears of corn,
- Passes bending down, my queen,
- To the earth where they were born.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;The blind man!&quot; she cried. And Emma began to laugh, an
- atrocious, frantic, despairing laugh, thinking she saw the
- hideous face of the poor wretch that stood out against the
- eternal night like a menace.</p>
-<p>&quot;The wind is strong this summer day,
- Her petticoat has flown away.&quot;</p>
-<p>She fell back upon the mattress in a convulsion. They all drew near. She was
- dead.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Nine</h3>
-<p>There is always after the death of anyone a kind of stupefaction;
- so difficult is it to grasp this advent of nothingness and to
- resign ourselves to believe in it. But still, when he saw that
- she did not move, Charles threw himself upon her, crying--</p>
-<p></p>
-<p>Farewell! farewell!&quot;</p>
-<p>Homais and Canivet dragged him from the room.</p>
-<p>&quot;Restrain yourself!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Yes.&quot; said he, struggling, &quot;I'll be quiet. I'll not do anything.
- But leave me alone. I want to see her. She is my wife!&quot;</p>
-<p>And he wept.</p>
-<p>&quot;Cry,&quot; said the chemist; &quot;let nature take her course; that will
- solace you.&quot;</p>
-<p>Weaker than a child, Charles let himself be led downstairs into
- the sitting-room, and Monsieur Homais soon went home. On the
- Place he was accosted by the blind man, who, having dragged
- himself as far as Yonville, in the hope of getting the
- antiphlogistic pomade, was asking every passer-by where the
- druggist lived.</p>
-<p>&quot;There now! as if I hadn't got other fish to fry. Well, so much
- the worse; you must come later on.&quot;</p>
-<p>And he entered the shop hurriedly.</p>
-<p>He had to write two letters, to prepare a soothing potion for
- Bovary, to invent some lie that would conceal the poisoning, and
- work it up into an article for the &quot;Fanal,&quot; without counting the
- people who were waiting to get the news from him; and when the
- Yonvillers had all heard his story of the arsenic that she had
- mistaken for sugar in making a vanilla cream. Homais once more
- returned to Bovary's.</p>
-<p>He found him alone (Monsieur Canivet had left), sitting in an
- arm-chair near the window, staring with an idiotic look at the
- flags of the floor.</p>
-<p>&quot;Now,&quot; said the chemist, &quot;you ought yourself to fix the hour
- for
- the ceremony.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Why? What ceremony?&quot; Then, in a stammering, frightened voice,
- &quot;Oh, no! not that. No! I want to see her here.&quot;</p>
-<p>Homais, to keep himself in countenance, took up a water-bottle on
- the whatnot to water the geraniums.</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah! thanks,&quot; said Charles; &quot;you are good.&quot;</p>
-<p>But he did not finish, choking beneath the crowd of memories that
- this action of the druggist recalled to him.</p>
-<p>Then to distract him, Homais thought fit to talk a little
- horticulture: plants wanted humidity. Charles bowed his head in
- sign of approbation.</p>
-<p>&quot;Besides, the fine days will soon be here again.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Ah!&quot; said Bovary.</p>
-<p>The druggist, at his wit's end, began softly to draw aside the
- small window-curtain.</p>
-<p>&quot;Hallo! there's Monsieur Tuvache passing.&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles repeated like a machine---</p>
-<p>&quot;Monsieur Tuvache passing!&quot;</p>
-<p>Homais did not dare to speak to him again about the funeral
- arrangements; it was the priest who succeeded in reconciling him
- to them.</p>
-<p>He shut himself up in his consulting-room, took a pen, and after
- sobbing for some time, wrote--</p>
-<p>&quot;I wish her to be buried in her wedding-dress, with white shoes,
- and a wreath. Her hair is to be spread out over her shoulders.
- Three coffins, one of oak, one of mahogany, one of lead. Let no
- one say anything to me. I shall have strength. Over all there is
- to be placed a large piece of green velvet. This is my wish; see
- that it is done.&quot;</p>
-<p>The two men were much surprised at Bovary's romantic ideas. The
- chemist at once went to him and said--</p>
-<p>&quot;This velvet seems to me a superfetation. Besides, the expense--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What's that to you?&quot; cried Charles. &quot;Leave me! You did not
- love
- her. Go!&quot;</p>
-<p>The priest took him by the arm for a turn in the garden. He
- discoursed on the vanity of earthly things. God was very great,
- was very good: one must submit to his decrees without a murmur;
- nay, must even thank him.</p>
-<p>Charles burst out into blasphemies: &quot;I hate your God!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;The spirit of rebellion is still upon you,&quot; sighed the
- ecclesiastic.</p>
-<p>Bovary was far away. He was walking with great strides along by
- the wall, near the espalier, and he ground his teeth; he raised
- to heaven looks of malediction, but not so much as a leaf
- stirred.</p>
-<p>A fine rain was falling: Charles, whose chest was bare, at last
- began to shiver; he went in and sat down in the kitchen.</p>
-<p>At six o'clock a noise like a clatter of old iron was heard on
- the Place; it was the &quot;Hirondelle&quot; coming in, and he remained
- with his forehead against the windowpane, watching all the
- passengers get out, one after the other. Felicite put down a
- mattress for him in the drawing-room. He threw himself upon it
- and fell asleep.</p>
-<p>Although a philosopher, Monsieur Homais respected the dead. So
- bearing no grudge to poor Charles, he came back again in the
- evening to sit up with the body; bringing with him three volumes
- and a pocket-book for taking notes.</p>
-<p>Monsieur Bournisien was there, and two large candles were burning
- at the head of the bed, that had been taken out of the alcove.
- The druggist, on whom the silence weighed, was not long before he
- began formulating some regrets about this &quot;unfortunate young
- woman.&quot; and the priest replied that there was nothing to do now
- but pray for her.</p>
-<p>&quot;Yet,&quot; Homais went on, &quot;one of two things; either she died in
- a
- state of grace (as the Church has it), and then she has no need
- of our prayers; or else she departed impertinent (that is, I
- believe, the ecclesiastical expression), and then--&quot;</p>
-<p>Bournisien interrupted him, replying testily that it was none the
- less necessary to pray.</p>
-<p>&quot;But,&quot; objected the chemist, &quot;since God knows all our needs,
- what
- can be the good of prayer?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;What!&quot; cried the ecclesiastic, &quot;prayer! Why, aren't you a
- Christian?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Excuse me,&quot; said Homais; &quot;I admire Christianity. To begin with,
- it enfranchised the slaves, introduced into the world a
- morality--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;That isn't the question. All the texts-&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh! oh! As to texts, look at history; it, is known that all the
- texts have been falsified by the Jesuits.&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles came in, and advancing towards the bed, slowly drew the
- curtains.</p>
-<p>Emma's head was turned towards her right shoulder, the corner of
- her mouth, which was open, seemed like a black hole at the lower
- part of her face; her two thumbs were bent into the palms of her
- hands; a kind of white dust besprinkled her lashes, and her eyes
- were beginning to disappear in that viscous pallor that looks
- like a thin web, as if spiders had spun it over. The sheet sunk
- in from her breast to her knees, and then rose at the tips of her
- toes, and it seemed to Charles that infinite masses, an enormous
- load, were weighing upon her.</p>
-<p>The church clock struck two. They could hear the loud murmur of
- the river flowing in the darkness at the foot of the terrace.
- Monsieur Bournisien from time to time blew his nose noisily, and
- Homais' pen was scratching over the paper.</p>
-<p>&quot;Come, my good friend,&quot; he said, &quot;withdraw; this spectacle is
- tearing you to pieces.&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles once gone, the chemist and the cure recommenced their
- discussions.</p>
-<p>&quot;Read Voltaire,&quot; said the one, &quot;read D'Holbach, read the
- 'Encyclopaedia'!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Read the 'Letters of some Portuguese Jews,'&quot; said the other;
- &quot;read 'The Meaning of Christianity,' by Nicolas, formerly a
- magistrate.&quot;</p>
-<p>They grew warm, they grew red, they both talked at once without
- listening to each other. Bournisien was scandalized at such
- audacity; Homais marvelled at such stupidity; and they were on
- the point of insulting one another when Charles suddenly
- reappeared. A fascination drew him. He was continually coming
- upstairs.</p>
-<p>He stood opposite her, the better to see her, and he lost himself
- in a contemplation so deep that it was no longer painful.</p>
-<p>He recalled stories of catalepsy, the marvels of magnetism, and
- he said to himself that by willing it with all his force he might
- perhaps succeed in reviving her. Once he even bent towards he,
- and cried in a low voice, &quot;Emma! Emma!&quot; His strong breathing made
- the flames of the candles tremble against the wall.</p>
-<p>At daybreak Madame Bovary senior arrived. Charles as he embraced
- her burst into another flood of tears. She tried, as the chemist
- had done, to make some remarks to him on the expenses of the
- funeral. He became so angry that she was silent, and he even
- commissioned her to go to town at once and buy what was
- necessary.</p>
-<p>Charles remained alone the whole afternoon; they had taken Berthe
- to Madame Homais'; Felicite was in the room upstairs with Madame
- Lefrancois.</p>
-<p>In the evening he had some visitors. He rose, pressed their
- hands, unable to speak. Then they sat down near one another, and
- formed a large semicircle in front of the fire. With lowered
- faces, and swinging one leg crossed over the other knee, they
- uttered deep sighs at intervals; each one was inordinately bored,
- and yet none would be the first to go.</p>
-<p>Homais, when he returned at nine o'clock (for the last two days
- only Homais seemed to have been on the Place), was laden with a
- stock of camphor, of benzine, and aromatic herbs. He also carried
- a large jar full of chlorine water, to keep off all miasmata.
- Just then the servant, Madame Lefrancois, and Madame Bovary
- senior were busy about Emma, finishing dressing her, and they
- were drawing down the long stiff veil that covered her to her
- satin shoes.</p>
-<p>Felicite was sobbing--&quot;Ah! my poor mistress! my poor mistress!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Look at her,&quot; said the landlady, sighing; &quot;how pretty she still
- is! Now, couldn't you swear she was going to get up in a minute?&quot;</p>
-<p>Then they bent over her to put on her wreath. They had to raise
- the head a little, and a rush of black liquid issued, as if she
- were vomiting, from her mouth.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, goodness! The dress; take care!&quot; cried Madame Lefrancois.
- &quot;Now, just come and help,&quot; she said to the chemist. &quot;Perhaps
- you're afraid?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I afraid?&quot; replied he, shrugging his shoulders. &quot;I dare say!
- I've seen all sorts of things at the hospital when I was studying
- pharmacy. We used to make punch in the dissecting room!
- Nothingness does not terrify a philosopher; and, as I often say,
- I even intend to leave my body to the hospitals, in order, later
- on, to serve science.&quot;</p>
-<p>The cure on his arrival inquired how Monsieur Bovary was, and, on
- the reply of the druggist, went on--&quot;The blow, you see, is still
- too recent.&quot;</p>
-<p>Then Homais congratulated him on not being exposed, like other
- people, to the loss of a beloved companion; whence there followed
- a discussion on the celibacy of priests.</p>
-<p>&quot;For,&quot; said the chemist, &quot;it is unnatural that a man should
- do
- without women! There have been crimes--&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;But, good heaven!&quot; cried the ecclesiastic, &quot;how do you expect
- an
- individual who is married to keep the secrets of the
- confessional, for example?&quot;</p>
-<p>Homais fell foul of the confessional. Bournisien defended it; he
- enlarged on the acts of restitution that it brought about. He
- cited various anecdotes about thieves who had suddenly become
- honest. Military men on approaching the tribunal of penitence had
- felt the scales fall from their eyes. At Fribourg there was a
- minister--</p>
-<p>His companion was asleep. Then he felt somewhat stifled by the
- over-heavy atmosphere of the room; he opened the window; this
- awoke the chemist.</p>
-<p>&quot;Come, take a pinch of snuff,&quot; he said to him. &quot;Take it; it'll
- relieve you.&quot;</p>
-<p>A continual barking was heard in the distance. &quot;Do you hear that
- dog howling?&quot; said the chemist.</p>
-<p>&quot;They smell the dead,&quot; replied the priest. &quot;It's like bees;
- they
- leave their hives on the decease of any person.&quot;</p>
-<p>Homais made no remark upon these prejudices, for he had again
- dropped asleep. Monsieur Bournisien, stronger than he, went on
- moving his lips gently for some time, then insensibly his chin
- sank down, he let fall his big black boot, and began to snore.</p>
-<p>They sat opposite one another, with protruding stomachs,
- puffed-up faces, and frowning looks, after so much disagreement
- uniting at last in the same human weakness, and they moved no
- more than the corpse by their side, that seemed to be sleeping.</p>
-<p>Charles coming in did not wake them. It was the last time; he
- came to bid her farewell.</p>
-<p>The aromatic herbs were still smoking, and spirals of bluish
- vapour blended at the window-sash with the fog that was coming
- in. There were few stars, and the night was warm. The wax of the
- candles fell in great drops upon the sheets of the bed. Charles
- watched them burn, tiring his eyes against the glare of their
- yellow flame.</p>
-<p>The watering on the satin gown shimmered white as moonlight. Emma
- was lost beneath it; and it seemed to him that, spreading beyond
- her own self, she blended confusedly with everything around her--
- the silence, the night, the passing wind, the damp odours rising
- from the ground.</p>
-<p>Then suddenly he saw her in the garden at Tostes, on a bench
- against the thorn hedge, or else at Rouen in the streets, on the
- threshold of their house, in the yard at Bertaux. He again heard
- the laughter of the happy boys beneath the apple-trees: the room
- was filled with the perfume of her hair; and her dress rustled in
- his arms with a noise like electricity. The dress was still the
- same.</p>
-<p>For a long while he thus recalled all his lost joys, her
- attitudes, her movements, the sound of her voice. Upon one fit of
- despair followed another, and even others, inexhaustible as the
- waves of an overflowing sea.</p>
-<p>A terrible curiosity seized him. Slowly, with the tips of his
- fingers, palpitating, he lifted her veil. But he uttered a cry of
- horror that awoke the other two.</p>
-<p>They dragged him down into the sitting-room. Then Felicite came
- up to say that he wanted some of her hair.</p>
-<p>&quot;Cut some off,&quot; replied the druggist.</p>
-<p>And as she did not dare to, he himself stepped forward, scissors
- in hand. He trembled so that he pierced the skin of the temple in
- several places. At last, stiffening himself against emotion,
- Homais gave two or three great cuts at random that left white
- patches amongst that beautiful black hair.</p>
-<p>The chemist and the cure plunged anew into their occupations, not
- without sleeping from time to time, of which they accused each
- other reciprocally at each fresh awakening. Then Monsieur
- Bournisien sprinkled the room with holy water and Homais threw a
- little chlorine water on the floor.</p>
-<p>Felicite had taken care to put on the chest of drawers, for each
- of them, a bottle of brandy, some cheese, and a large roll. And
- the druggist, who could not hold out any longer, about four in
- the morning sighed--</p>
-<p>&quot;My word! I should like to take some sustenance.&quot;</p>
-<p>The priest did not need any persuading; he went out to go and say
- mass, came back, and then they ate and hobnobbed, giggling a
- little without knowing why, stimulated by that vague gaiety that
- comes upon us after times of sadness, and at the last glass the
- priest said to the druggist, as he clapped him on the shoulder--</p>
-<p>&quot;We shall end by understanding one another.&quot;</p>
-<p>In the passage downstairs they met the undertaker's men, who were
- coming in. Then Charles for two hours had to suffer the torture
- of hearing the hammer resound against the wood. Next day they
- lowered her into her oak coffin, that was fitted into the other
- two; but as the bier was too large, they had to fill up the gaps
- with the wool of a mattress. At last, when the three lids had
- been planed down, nailed, soldered, it was placed outside in
- front of the door; the house was thrown open, and the people of
- Yonville began to flock round.</p>
-<p>Old Rouault arrived, and fainted on the Place when he saw the black cloth!</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Ten</h3>
-<p>He had only received the chemist's letter thirty-six hours after
- the event; and, from consideration for his feelings, Homais had
- so worded it that it was impossible to make out what it was all
- about.</p>
-<p>First, the old fellow had fallen as if struck by apoplexy. Next, he understood
- that she was not dead, but she might be. At last, he had put on his blouse,
- taken his hat, fastened his spurs to his boots, and set out at full speed; and
- the whole of the way old Rouault, panting, was torn by anguish. Once even he
- was obliged to dismount. He was dizzy; he heard voices round about him; he felt
- himself going mad.</p>
-<p>Day broke. He saw three black hens asleep in a tree. He
- shuddered, horrified at this omen. Then he promised the Holy
- Virgin three chasubles for the church, and that he would go
- barefooted from the cemetery at Bertaux to the chapel of
- Vassonville.</p>
-<p>He entered Maromme shouting for the people of the inn, burst open
- the door with a thrust of his shoulder, made for a sack of oats,
- emptied a bottle of sweet cider into the manger, and again
- mounted his nag, whose feet struck fire as it dashed along.</p>
-<p>He said to himself that no doubt they would save her; the doctors
- would discover some remedy surely. He remembered all the
- miraculous cures he had been told about. Then she appeared to him
- dead. She was there; before his eyes, lying on her back in the
- middle of the road. He reined up, and the hallucination
- disappeared.</p>
-<p>At Quincampoix, to give himself heart, he drank three cups of
- coffee one after the other. He fancied they had made a mistake in
- the name in writing. He looked for the letter in his pocket, felt
- it there, but did not dare to open it.</p>
-<p>At last he began to think it was all a joke; someone's spite, the
- jest of some wag; and besides, if she were dead, one would have
- known it. But no! There was nothing extraordinary about the
- country; the sky was blue, the trees swayed; a flock of sheep
- passed. He saw the village; he was seen coming bending forward
- upon his horse, belabouring it with great blows, the girths
- dripping with blood.</p>
-<p>When he had recovered consciousness, he fell, weeping, into
- Bovary's arms: &quot;My girl! Emma! my child! tell me--&quot;</p>
-<p>The other replied, sobbing, &quot;I don't know! I don't know! It's a
- curse!&quot;</p>
-<p>The druggist separated them. &quot;These horrible details are useless.
- I will tell this gentleman all about it. Here are the people
- coming. Dignity! Come now! Philosophy!&quot;</p>
-<p>The poor fellow tried to show himself brave, and repeated several
- times. &quot;Yes! courage!&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; cried the old man, &quot;so I will have, by God! I'll go along
- o' her to the end!&quot;</p>
-<p>The bell began tolling. All was ready; they had to start. And
- seated in a stall of the choir, side by side, they saw pass and
- repass in front of them continually the three chanting
- choristers.</p>
-<p>The serpent-player was blowing with all his might. Monsieur
- Bournisien, in full vestments, was singing in a shrill voice. He
- bowed before the tabernacle, raising his hands, stretched out his
- arms. Lestiboudois went about the church with his whalebone
- stick. The bier stood near the lectern, between four rows of
- candles. Charles felt inclined to get up and put them out.</p>
-<p>Yet he tried to stir himself to a feeling of devotion, to throw
- himself into the hope of a future life in which he should see her
- again. He imagined to himself she had gone on a long journey, far
- away, for along time. But when he thought of her lying there, and
- that all was over, that they would lay her in the earth, he was
- seized with a fierce, gloomy, despairful rage. At times he
- thought he felt nothing more, and he enjoyed this lull in his
- pain, whilst at the same time he reproached himself for being a
- wretch.</p>
-<p>The sharp noise of an iron-ferruled stick was heard on the
- stones, striking them at irregular intervals. It came from the
- end of the church, and stopped short at the lower aisles. A man
- in a coarse brown jacket knelt down painfully. It was Hippolyte,
- the stable-boy at the &quot;Lion d'Or.&quot; He had put on his new leg.</p>
-<p>One of the choristers went round the nave making a collection,
- and the coppers chinked one after the other on the silver plate.</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, make haste! I am in pain!&quot; cried Bovary, angrily throwing
- him a five-franc piece. The churchman thanked him with a deep bow.</p>
-<p>They sang, they knelt, they stood up; it was endless! He
- remembered that once, in the early times, they had been to mass
- together, and they had sat down on the other side, on the right,
- by the wall. The bell began again. There was a great moving of
- chairs; the bearers slipped their three staves under the coffin,
- and everyone left the church.</p>
-<p>Then Justin appeared at the door of the shop. He suddenly went in
- again, pale, staggering.</p>
-<p>People were at the windows to see the procession pass. Charles at
- the head walked erect. He affected a brave air, and saluted with
- a nod those who, coming out from the lanes or from their doors,
- stood amidst the crowd.</p>
-<p>The six men, three on either side, walked slowly, panting a
- little. The priests, the choristers, and the two choirboys
- recited the De profundis*, and their voices echoed over the
- fields, rising and falling with their undulations. Sometimes they
- disappeared in the windings of the path; but the great silver
- cross rose always before the trees.</p>
-<p>*Psalm CXXX.</p>
-<p>
- The women followed in black cloaks with turned-down hoods; each
- of them carried in her hands a large lighted candle, and Charles
- felt himself growing weaker at this continual repetition of
- prayers and torches, beneath this oppressive odour of wax and of
- cassocks. A fresh breeze was blowing; the rye and colza were
- sprouting, little dewdrops trembled at the roadsides and on the
- hawthorn hedges. All sorts of joyous sounds filled the air; the
- jolting of a cart rolling afar off in the ruts, the crowing of a
- cock, repeated again and again, or the gambling of a foal running
- away under the apple-trees: The pure sky was fretted with rosy
- clouds; a bluish haze rested upon the cots covered with iris.
- Charles as he passed recognised each courtyard. He remembered
- mornings like this, when, after visiting some patient, he came
- out from one and returned to her.</p>
-<p>The black cloth bestrewn with white beads blew up from time to
- time, laying bare the coffin. The tired bearers walked more
- slowly, and it advanced with constant jerks, like a boat that
- pitches with every wave.</p>
-<p>They reached the cemetery. The men went right down to a place in
- the grass where a grave was dug. They ranged themselves all
- round; and while the priest spoke, the red soil thrown up at the
- sides kept noiselessly slipping down at the corners.</p>
-<p>Then when the four ropes were arranged the coffin was placed upon
- them. He watched it descend; it seemed descending for ever. At
- last a thud was heard; the ropes creaked as they were drawn up.
- Then Bournisien took the spade handed to him by Lestiboudois;
- with his left hand all the time sprinkling water, with the right
- he vigorously threw in a large spadeful; and the wood of the
- coffin, struck by the pebbles, gave forth that dread sound that
- seems to us the reverberation of eternity.</p>
-<p>The ecclesiastic passed the holy water sprinkler to his
- neighbour. This was Homais. He swung it gravely, then handed it
- to Charles, who sank to his knees in the earth and threw in
- handfuls of it, crying, &quot;Adieu!&quot; He sent her kisses; he dragged
- himself towards the grave, to engulf himself with her. They led
- him away, and he soon grew calmer, feeling perhaps, like the
- others, a vague satisfaction that it was all over.</p>
-<p>Old Rouault on his way back began quietly smoking a pipe, which
- Homais in his innermost conscience thought not quite the thing.
- He also noticed that Monsieur Binet had not been present, and
- that Tuvache had &quot;made off&quot; after mass, and that Theodore, the
- notary's servant wore a blue coat, &quot;as if one could not have got
- a black coat, since that is the custom, by Jove!&quot; And to share
- his observations with others he went from group to group. They
- were deploring Emma's death, especially Lheureux, who had not
- failed to come to the funeral.</p>
-<p>&quot;Poor little woman! What a trouble for her husband!&quot;</p>
-<p>The druggist continued, &quot;Do you know that but for me he would
- have committed some fatal attempt upon himself?&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;Such a good woman! To think that I saw her only last Saturday in
- my shop.&quot;</p>
-<p>&quot;I haven't had leisure,&quot; said Homais, &quot;to prepare a few words
- that I would have cast upon her tomb.&quot;</p>
-<p>Charles on getting home undressed, and old Rouault put on his
- blue blouse. It was a new one, and as he had often during the
- journey wiped his eyes on the sleeves, the dye had stained his
- face, and the traces of tears made lines in the layer of dust
- that covered it.</p>
-<p>Madame Bovary senior was with them. All three were silent. At
- last the old fellow sighed--</p>
-<p>&quot;Do you remember, my friend, that I went to Tostes once when you
- had just lost your first deceased? I consoled you at that time. I
- thought of something to say then, but now--&quot; Then, with a loud
- groan that shook his whole chest, &quot;Ah! this is the end for me, do
- you see! I saw my wife go, then my son, and now to-day it's my
- daughter.&quot;</p>
-<p>He wanted to go back at once to Bertaux, saying that he could not
- sleep in this house. He even refused to see his granddaughter.</p>
-<p>&quot;No, no! It would grieve me too much. Only you'll kiss her many
- times for me. Good-bye! you're a good fellow! And then I shall
- never forget that,&quot; he said, slapping his thigh. &quot;Never fear, you
- shall always have your turkey.&quot;</p>
-<p>But when he reached the top of the hill he turned back, as he had
- turned once before on the road of Saint-Victor when he had parted
- from her. The windows of the village were all on fire beneath the
- slanting rays of the sun sinking behind the field. He put his
- hand over his eyes, and saw in the horizon an enclosure of walls,
- where trees here and there formed black clusters between white
- stones; then he went on his way at a gentle trot, for his nag had
- gone lame.</p>
-<p>Despite their fatigue, Charles and his mother stayed very long
- that evening talking together. They spoke of the days of the past
- and of the future. She would come to live at Yonville; she would
- keep house for him; they would never part again. She was
- ingenious and caressing, rejoicing in her heart at gaining once
- more an affection that had wandered from her for so many years.
- Midnight struck. The village as usual was silent, and Charles,
- awake, thought always of her.</p>
-<p>Rodolphe, who, to distract himself, had been rambling about the
- wood all day, was sleeping quietly in his chateau, and Leon, down
- yonder, always slept.</p>
-<p>There was another who at that hour was not asleep.</p>
-<p>On the grave between the pine-trees a child was on his knees weeping, and his
- heart, rent by sobs, was beating in the shadow beneath the load of an immense
- regret, sweeter than the moon and fathomless as the night. The gate suddenly
- grated. It was Lestiboudois; he came to fetch his spade, that he had forgotten.
- He recognised Justin climbing over the wall, and at last knew who was the culprit
- who stole his potatoes.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h3 align="center"></h3>
-<h3 align="center">Chapter Eleven</h3>
-<p>The next day Charles had the child brought back. She asked for
- her mamma. They told her she was away; that she would bring her
- back some playthings. Berthe spoke of her again several times,
- then at last thought no more of her. The child's gaiety broke
- Bovary's heart, and he had to bear besides the intolerable
- consolations of the chemist.</p>
-<p>Money troubles soon began again, Monsieur Lheureux urging on anew his friend
- Vincart, and Charles pledged himself for exorbitant sums; for he would never
- consent to let the smallest of the things that had belonged to HER be sold.
- His mother was exasperated with him; he grew even more angry than she did. He
- had altogether changed. She left the house. </p>
-<p>Then everyone began &quot;taking advantage&quot; of him. Mademoiselle
- Lempereur presented a bill for six months' teaching, although
- Emma had never taken a lesson (despite the receipted bill she had
- shown Bovary); it was an arrangement between the two women. The
- man at the circulating library demanded three years'
- subscriptions; Mere Rollet claimed the postage due for some
- twenty letters, and when Charles asked for an explanation, she
- had the delicacy to reply--</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, I don't know. It was for her business affairs.&quot;</p>
-<p>With every debt he paid Charles thought he had come to the end of
- them. But others followed ceaselessly. He sent in accounts for
- professional attendance. He was shown the letters his wife had
- written. Then he had to apologise.</p>
-<p>Felicite now wore Madame Bovary's gowns; not all, for he had kept
- some of them, and he went to look at them in her dressing-room,
- locking himself up there; she was about her height, and often
- Charles, seeing her from behind, was seized with an illusion, and
- cried out--</p>
-<p>&quot;Oh, stay, stay!&quot;</p>
-<p>But at Whitsuntide she ran away from Yonville, carried off by
- Theodore, stealing all that was left of the wardrobe.</p>
-<p>It was about this time that the widow Dupuis had the honour to
- inform him of the &quot;marriage of Monsieur Leon Dupuis her son,
- notary at Yvetot, to Mademoiselle Leocadie Leboeuf of
- Bondeville.&quot; Charles, among the other congratulations he sent
- him, wrote this sentence--</p>
-<p>&quot;How glad my poor wife would have been!&quot;</p>
-<p>One day when, wandering aimlessly about the house, he had gone up
- to the attic, he felt a pellet of fine paper under his slipper.
- He opened it and read: &quot;Courage, Emma, courage. I would not bring
- misery into your life.&quot; It was Rodolphe's letter, fallen to the
- ground between the boxes, where it had remained, and that the
- wind from the dormer window had just blown towards the door. And
- Charles stood, motionless and staring, in the very same place
- where, long ago, Emma, in despair, and paler even than he, had
- thought of dying. At last he discovered a small R at the bottom
- of the second page. What did this mean? He remembered Rodolphe's
- attentions, his sudden, disappearance, his constrained air when
- they had met two or three times since. But the respectful tone of
- the letter deceived him.</p>
-<p>&quot;Perhaps they loved one another platonically,&quot; he said to
- himself.</p>
-<p>Besides, Charles was not of those who go to the bottom of things;
- he shrank from the proofs, and his vague jealousy was lost in the
- immensity of his woe.</p>
-<p>Everyone, he thought, must have adored her; all men assuredly
- must have coveted her. She seemed but the more beautiful to him
- for this; he was seized with a lasting, furious desire for her,
- that inflamed his despair, and that was boundless, because it was
- now unrealisable.</p>
-<p>To please her, as if she were still living, he adopted her
- predilections, her ideas; he bought patent leather boots and took
- to wearing white cravats. He put cosmetics on his moustache, and,
- like her, signed notes of hand. She corrupted him from beyond the
- grave.</p>
-<p>He was obliged to sell his silver piece by piece; next he sold
- the drawing-room furniture. All the rooms were stripped; but the
- bedroom, her own room, remained as before. After his dinner
- Charles went up there. He pushed the round table in front of the
- fire, and drew up her armchair. He sat down opposite it. A candle
- burnt in one of the gilt candlesticks. Berthe by his side was
- painting prints.</p>
-<p>He suffered, poor man, at seeing her so badly dressed, with
- laceless boots, and the arm-holes of her pinafore torn down to
- the hips; for the charwoman took no care of her. But she was so
- sweet, so pretty, and her little head bent forward so gracefully,
- letting the dear fair hair fall over her rosy cheeks, that an
- infinite joy came upon him, a happiness mingled with bitterness,
- like those ill-made wines that taste of resin. He mended her
- toys, made her puppets from cardboard, or sewed up half-torn
- dolls. Then, if his eyes fell upon the workbox, a ribbon lying
- about, or even a pin left in a crack of the table, he began to
- dream, and looked so sad that she became as sad as he.</p>
-<p>No one now came to see them, for Justin had run away to Rouen,
- where he was a grocer's assistant, and the druggist's children
- saw less and less of the child, Monsieur Homais not caring,
- seeing the difference of their social position, to continue the
- intimacy.</p>
-<p>The blind man, whom he had not been able to cure with the pomade,
- had gone back to the hill of Bois-Guillaume, where he told the
- travellers of the vain attempt of the druggist, to such an
- extent, that Homais when he went to town hid himself behind the
- curtains of the &quot;Hirondelle&quot; to avoid meeting him. He detested
- him, and wishing, in the interests of his own reputation, to get
- rid of him at all costs, he directed against him a secret
- battery, that betrayed the depth of his intellect and the
- baseness of his vanity. Thus, for six consecutive months, one
- could read in the &quot;Fanal de Rouen&quot; editorials such as these--</p>
-<p>&quot;All who bend their steps towards the fertile plains of Picardy
- have, no doubt, remarked, by the Bois-Guillaume hill, a wretch
- suffering from a horrible facial wound. He importunes, persecutes
- one, and levies a regular tax on all travellers. Are we still
- living in the monstrous times of the Middle Ages, when vagabonds
- were permitted to display in our public places leprosy and
- scrofulas they had brought back from the Crusades?&quot;</p>
-<p>Or--</p>
-<p>&quot;In spite of the laws against vagabondage, the approaches to our
- great towns continue to be infected by bands of beggars. Some are
- seen going about alone, and these are not, perhaps, the least
- dangerous. What are our ediles about?&quot;</p>
-<p>Then Homais invented anecdotes--</p>
-<p>&quot;Yesterday, by the Bois-Guillaume hill, a skittish horse--&quot; And
- then followed the story of an accident caused by the presence of
- the blind man.</p>
-<p>He managed so well that the fellow was locked up. But he was
- released. He began again, and Homais began again. It was a
- struggle. Homais won it, for his foe was condemned to life-long
- confinement in an asylum.</p>
-<p>This success emboldened him, and henceforth there was no longer a
- dog run over, a barn burnt down, a woman beaten in the parish, of
- which he did not immediately inform the public, guided always by
- the love of progress and the hate of priests. He instituted
- comparisons between the elementary and clerical schools to the
- detriment of the latter; called to mind the massacre of St.
- Bartholomew a propos of a grant of one hundred francs to the
- church, and denounced abuses, aired new views. That was his
- phrase. Homais was digging and delving; he was becoming
- dangerous.</p>
-<p>However, he was stifling in the narrow limits of journalism, and
- soon a book, a work was necessary to him. Then he composed
- &quot;General Statistics of the Canton of Yonville, followed by
- Climatological Remarks.&quot; The statistics drove him to philosophy.
- He busied himself with great questions: the social problem:
- moralisation of the poorer classes, pisciculture, caoutchouc,
- railways, etc. He even began to blush at being a bourgeois. He
- affected the artistic style, he smoked. He bought two chic
- Pompadour statuettes to adorn his drawing-room.</p>
-<p>He by no means gave up his shop. On the contrary, he kept well
- abreast of new discoveries. He followed the great movement of
- chocolates; he was the first to introduce &quot;cocoa&quot; and &quot;revalenta&quot;
- into the Seine-Inferieure. He was enthusiastic about the
- hydro-electric Pulvermacher chains; he wore one himself, and when
- at night he took off his flannel vest, Madame Homais stood quite
- dazzled before the golden spiral beneath which he was hidden,
- and felt her ardour redouble for this man more bandaged than a
- Scythian, and splendid as one of the Magi.</p>
-<p>He had fine ideas about Emma's tomb. First he proposed a broken
- column with some drapery, next a pyramid, then a Temple of Vesta,
- a sort of rotunda, or else a &quot;mass of ruins.&quot; And in all his
- plans Homais always stuck to the weeping willow, which he looked
- upon as the indispensable symbol of sorrow.</p>
-<p>Charles and he made a journey to Rouen together to look at some
- tombs at a funeral furnisher's, accompanied by an artist, one
- Vaufrylard, a friend of Bridoux's, who made puns all the time. At
- last, after having examined some hundred designs, having ordered
- an estimate and made another journey to Rouen, Charles decided in
- favour of a mausoleum, which on the two principal sides was to
- have a &quot;spirit bearing an extinguished torch.&quot;</p>
-<p>As to the inscription, Homais could think of nothing so fine as
- Sta viator*, and he got no further; he racked his brain, he
- constantly repeated Sta viator. At last he hit upon Amabilen
- conjugem calcas**, which was adopted.</p>
-<p>* Rest traveler.
- ** Tread upon a loving wife.</p>
-<p>
- A strange thing was that Bovary, while continually thinking of
- Emma, was forgetting her. He grew desperate as he felt this image
- fading from his memory in spite of all efforts to retain it. Yet
- every night he dreamt of her; it was always the same dream. He
- drew near her, but when he was about to clasp her she fell into
- decay in his arms.</p>
-<p>For a week he was seen going to church in the evening. Monsieur
- Bournisien even paid him two or three visits, then gave him up.
- Moreover, the old fellow was growing intolerant, fanatic, said
- Homais. He thundered against the spirit of the age, and never
- failed, every other week, in his sermon, to recount the death
- agony of Voltaire, who died devouring his excrements, as everyone
- knows.</p>
-<p>In spite of the economy with which Bovary lived, he was far from
- being able to pay off his old debts. Lheureux refused to renew
- any more bills. A distraint became imminent. Then he appealed to
- his mother, who consented to let him take a mortgage on her
- property, but with a great many recriminations against Emma; and
- in return for her sacrifice she asked for a shawl that had
- escaped the depredations of Felicite. Charles refused to give it
- her; they quarrelled.</p>
-<p>She made the first overtures of reconciliation by offering to
- have the little girl, who could help her in the house, to live
- with her. Charles consented to this, but when the time for
- parting came, all his courage failed him. Then there was a final,
- complete rupture.</p>
-<p>As his affections vanished, he clung more closely to the love of
- his child. She made him anxious, however, for she coughed
- sometimes, and had red spots on her cheeks.</p>
-<p>Opposite his house, flourishing and merry, was the family of the
- chemist, with whom everything was prospering. Napoleon helped him
- in the laboratory, Athalie embroidered him a skullcap, Irma cut
- out rounds of paper to cover the preserves, and Franklin recited
- Pythagoras' table in a breath. He was the happiest of fathers,
- the most fortunate of men.</p>
-<p>Not so! A secret ambition devoured him. Homais hankered after the
- cross of the Legion of Honour. He had plenty of claims to it.</p>
-<p>&quot;First, having at the time of the cholera distinguished myself by
- a boundless devotion; second, by having published, at my expense,
- various works of public utility, such as&quot; (and he recalled his
- pamphlet entitled, &quot;Cider, its manufacture and effects,&quot; besides
- observation on the lanigerous plant-louse, sent to the Academy;
- his volume of statistics, and down to his pharmaceutical thesis);
- &quot;without counting that I am a member of several learned
- societies&quot; (he was member of a single one).</p>
-<p>&quot;In short!&quot; he cried, making a pirouette, &quot;if it were only for
- distinguishing myself at fires!&quot;</p>
-<p>Then Homais inclined towards the Government. He secretly did the
- prefect great service during the elections. He sold himself--in a
- word, prostituted himself. He even addressed a petition to the
- sovereign in which he implored him to &quot;do him justice&quot;; he called
- him &quot;our good king,&quot; and compared him to Henri IV.</p>
-<p>And every morning the druggist rushed for the paper to see if his
- nomination were in it. It was never there. At last, unable to
- bear it any longer, he had a grass plot in his garden designed to
- represent the Star of the Cross of Honour with two little strips
- of grass running from the top to imitate the ribband. He walked
- round it with folded arms, meditating on the folly of the
- Government and the ingratitude of men.</p>
-<p>From respect, or from a sort of sensuality that made him carry on
- his investigations slowly, Charles had not yet opened the secret
- drawer of a rosewood desk which Emma had generally used. One day,
- however, he sat down before it, turned the key, and pressed the
- spring. All Leon's letters were there. There could be no doubt
- this time. He devoured them to the very last, ransacked every
- corner, all the furniture, all the drawers, behind the walls,
- sobbing, crying aloud, distraught, mad. He found a box and broke
- it open with a kick. Rodolphe's portrait flew full in his face in
- the midst of the overturned love-letters.</p>
-<p>People wondered at his despondency. He never went out, saw no
- one, refused even to visit his patients. Then they said &quot;he shut
- himself up to drink.&quot;</p>
-<p>Sometimes, however, some curious person climbed on to the garden
- hedge, and saw with amazement this long-bearded, shabbily
- clothed, wild man, who wept aloud as he walked up and down.</p>
-<p>In the evening in summer he took his little girl with him and led
- her to the cemetery. They came back at nightfall, when the only
- light left in the Place was that in Binet's window.</p>
-<p>The voluptuousness of his grief was, however, incomplete, for he
- had no one near him to share it, and he paid visits to Madame
- Lefrancois to be able to speak of her.</p>
-<p>But the landlady only listened with half an ear, having troubles
- like himself. For Lheureux had at last established the &quot;Favorites
- du Commerce,&quot; and Hivert, who enjoyed a great reputation for
- doing errands, insisted on a rise of wages, and was threatening
- to go over &quot;to the opposition shop.&quot;</p>
-<p>One day when he had gone to the market at Argueil to sell his
- horse--his last resource--he met Rodolphe.</p>
-<p>They both turned pale when they caught sight of one another.
- Rodolphe, who had only sent his card, first stammered some
- apologies, then grew bolder, and even pushed his assurance (it
- was in the month of August and very hot) to the length of
- inviting him to have a bottle of beer at the public-house.</p>
-<p>Leaning on the table opposite him, he chewed his cigar as he
- talked, and Charles was lost in reverie at this face that she had
- loved. He seemed to see again something of her in it. It was a
- marvel to him. He would have liked to have been this man.</p>
-<p>The other went on talking agriculture, cattle, pasturage, filling
- out with banal phrases all the gaps where an allusion might slip
- in. Charles was not listening to him; Rodolphe noticed it, and he
- followed the succession of memories that crossed his face. This
- gradually grew redder; the nostrils throbbed fast, the lips
- quivered. There was at last a moment when Charles, full of a
- sombre fury, fixed his eyes on Rodolphe, who, in something of
- fear, stopped talking. But soon the same look of weary lassitude
- came back to his face.</p>
-<p>&quot;I don't blame you,&quot; he said.</p>
-<p>Rodolphe was dumb. And Charles, his head in his hands, went on in
- a broken voice, and with the resigned accent of infinite sorrow--</p>
-<p>&quot;No, I don't blame you now.&quot;</p>
-<p>He even added a fine phrase, the only one he ever made--</p>
-<p>&quot;It is the fault of fatality!&quot;</p>
-<p>Rodolphe, who had managed the fatality, thought the remark very
- offhand from a man in his position, comic even, and a little
- mean.</p>
-<p>The next day Charles went to sit down on the seat in the arbour.
- Rays of light were straying through the trellis, the vine leaves
- threw their shadows on the sand, the jasmines perfumed the air,
- the heavens were blue, Spanish flies buzzed round the lilies in
- bloom, and Charles was suffocating like a youth beneath the vague
- love influences that filled his aching heart.</p>
-<p>At seven o'clock little Berthe, who had not seen him all the
- afternoon, went to fetch him to dinner.</p>
-<p>His head was thrown back against the wall, his eyes closed, his
- mouth open, and in his hand was a long tress of black hair.</p>
-<p>&quot;Come along, papa,&quot; she said.</p>
-<p>And thinking he wanted to play; she pushed him gently. He fell to
- the ground. He was dead.</p>
-<p>Thirty-six hours after, at the druggist's request, Monsieur
- Canivet came thither. He made a post-mortem and found nothing.</p>
-<p>When everything had been sold, twelve francs seventy-five
- centimes remained, that served to pay for Mademoiselle Bovary's
- going to her grandmother. The good woman died the same year; old
- Rouault was paralysed, and it was an aunt who took charge of her.
- She is poor, and sends her to a cotton-factory to earn a living.</p>
-<p>Since Bovary's death three doctors have followed one another at
- Yonville without any success, so severely did Homais attack them.
- He has an enormous practice; the authorities treat him with
- consideration, and public opinion protects him.</p>
-<p>He has just received the cross of the Legion of Honour.</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p></p>
-<p>
- End of the Project Gutenberg etext of Madame Bovary.</p>
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