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