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第33章

madame bovary(包法利夫人)-第33章

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them over to her。
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。
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。
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。
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。
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。
〃Oh; very well; take them!〃 said Emma。
〃I was only joking;〃 he replied; 〃the only thing I regret is the
whip。 My word! I'll ask monsieur to return it to me。〃
〃No; no!〃 she said。
〃Ah! I've got you!〃 thought Lheureux。
And; certain of his discovery; he went out repeating to himself
in an undertone; and with his usual low whistle
〃Good! we shall see! we shall see!〃
She was thinking how to get out of this when the servant coming
in put on the mantelpiece a small roll of blue paper 〃from
Monsieur Derozeray's。〃 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
Three days after Lheureux reappeared。
〃I have an arrangement to suggest to you;〃 he said。 〃If; instead
of the sum agreed on; you would take〃
〃Here it is;〃 she said placing fourteen napoleons in his hand。
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。 〃Pshaw!〃 she
thought; 〃he won't think about it again。〃
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。
*A loving heart。
Then she had strange ideas。
〃When midnight strikes;〃 she said; 〃you must think of me。〃
And if he confessed that he had not thought of her; there were
floods of reproaches that always ended with the eternal question
〃Do you love me?〃
〃Why; of course I love you;〃 he answered。
〃A great deal?〃
〃Certainly!〃
〃You haven't loved any others?〃
〃Did you think you'd got a virgin?〃 he exclaimed laughing。
Emma cried; and he tried to console her; adorning his
protestations with puns。
〃Oh;〃 she went on; 〃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!〃
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 tears dance when we long to
move the stars。
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。
*Off…handedly。

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; 〃as if to defy the people。〃 At last;
those who still doubted doubted no longer when one day they saw
her getting out of the 〃Hirondelle;〃 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 〃ways of the
house〃 annoyed her; she allowed herself to make some remarks; and
there were quarrels; especially one on account of Felicite。
Madame Bovary senior; the evening before; passing along the
passage; had surprised her in company of a mana 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。
〃Where were you brought up?〃 asked the daughter…in…law; with so
impertinent a look that Madame Bovary asked her if she were not
perhaps defending her own case。
〃Leave the room!〃 said the young woman; springing up with a
bound。
〃Emma! Mamma!〃 cried Charles; trying to reconcile them。
But both had fled in their exasperation。 Emma was stamping her
feet as she repeated
〃Oh! what manners! What a peasant!〃
He ran to his mother; she was beside herself。 She stammered
〃She is an insolent; giddy…headed thing; or perhaps worse!〃
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
〃Very well! I'll go to her。〃
And in fact she held out her hand to her mother…in…law with the
dignity of a marchioness as she said
〃Excuse me; madame。〃
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。
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。
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。
〃Do take care!〃 he said。
〃Ah! if you knew!〃 she replied。
And she began telling him everything; hurriedly; disjointedly;
exaggerating the facts; inventing many; and so prodigal of
parentheses that he understood nothing of it。
〃Come; my poor angel; courage! Be comforted! be patient!〃
〃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!〃
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 〃What is; it? What do
you wish?〃
〃Take me away;〃 she cried; 〃carry me off! Oh; I pray you!〃
And she threw herself upon his mouth; as if to seize there the
unexpected consent if breathed forth in a kiss。
〃But〃 Rodolphe resumed。
〃What?〃
 
〃Your little girl!〃
She reflected a few moments; then replied
〃We will take her! It can't be helped!〃
〃What a woman!〃 he said to himself; watching her as she went。 For
she had run into the garden。 Someone was calling her。
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。
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?
But she paid no heed to them; on the contrary; she lived as lost
in the anticipated delight of her coming happiness。
It was an eternal subject for conversation with Rodolphe。 She
leant on his shoulder murmuring
〃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?〃
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 so

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