madame bovary(包法利夫人)-第57章

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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。
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。
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。
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。
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。
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。
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。
When　he　had　recovered　consciousness；　he　fell；　weeping；　into
Bovary's　arms：　〃My　girl！　Emma！　my　child！　tell　me〃
The　other　replied；　sobbing；　〃I　don't　know！　I　don't　know！　It's　a
curse！〃
The　druggist　separated　them。　〃These　horrible　details　are　useless。
I　will　tell　this　gentleman　all　about　it。　Here　are　the　people
coming。　Dignity！　Come　now！　Philosophy！〃
The　poor　fellow　tried　to　show　himself　brave；　and　repeated　several
times。　〃Yes！　courage！〃
〃Oh；〃　cried　the　old　man；　〃so　I　will　have；　by　God！　I'll　go　along
o'　her　to　the　end！〃
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。
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。
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。
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　〃Lion　d'Or。〃　He　had　put　on　his　new　leg。
One　of　the　choristers　went　round　the　nave　making　a　collection；
and　the　coppers　chinked　one　after　the　other　on　the　silver　plate。
〃Oh；　make　haste！　I　am　in　pain！〃　cried　Bovary；　angrily　throwing
him　a　five…franc　piece。　The　churchman　thanked　him　with　a　deep　bow。
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。
Then　Justin　appeared　at　the　door　of　the　shop。　He　suddenly　went　in
again；　pale；　staggering。
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。
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。
*Psalm　CXXX。

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。
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。
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。
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。
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；　〃Adieu！〃　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。
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　〃made　off〃　after　mass；　and　that　Theodore；　the
notary's　servant　wore　a　blue　coat；　〃as　if　one　could　not　have　got
a　black　coat；　since　that　is　the　custom；　by　Jove！〃　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。
〃Poor　little　woman！　What　a　trouble　for　her　husband！〃
The　druggist　continued；　〃Do　you　know　that　but　for　me　he　would
have　committed　some　fatal　attempt　upon　himself？〃
〃Such　a　good　woman！　To　think　that　I　saw　her　only　last　Saturday　in
my　shop。〃
〃I　haven't　had　leisure；〃　said　Homais；　〃to　prepare　a　few　words
that　I　would　have　cast　upon　her　tomb。〃
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。
Madame　Bovary　senior　was　with　them。　All　three　were　silent。　At
last　the　old　fellow　sighed
〃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〃　Then；　with　a　loud
groan　that　shook　his　whole　chest；　〃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。〃
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。
〃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；〃　he　said；　slapping　his　thigh。　〃Never　fear；　you
shall　always　have　your　turkey。〃
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。
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。
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。
There　was　another　who　at　that　hour　was　not　asleep。
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。

Chapter　Eleven
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；　an