madame bovary(包法利夫人)-第18章

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left　on　the　right　hand　and　the　foot　of　the　Saint…Jean　hills
followed　the　cemetery　is　soon　reached。
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。
〃You　live　on　the　dead；　Lestiboudois！〃　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。
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。
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。
》From　the　poultry…yard　was　heard　the　screaming　of　the　fowls　whom
the　servant　was　chasing　in　order　to　wring　their　necks。
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。
〃Artemise！〃　shouted　the　landlady；　〃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；〃　she　went
on；　looking　at　them　from　a　distance；　her　strainer　in　her　hand。
〃That　wouldn't　be　much　of　a　loss；〃　replied　Monsieur　Homais。　〃You
would　buy　another。〃
〃Another　billiard…table！〃　exclaimed　the　widow。
〃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！〃
The　hostess　reddened　with　vexation。　The　chemist　went　on
〃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〃
〃It　isn't　beggars　like　him　that'll　frighten　us；〃　interrupted　the
landlady；　shrugging　her　fat　shoulders。　〃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！〃　she　went　on；　speaking　to　herself；　〃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！〃
〃Are　you　waiting　for　him　for　your　gentlemen's　dinner？〃
〃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！〃
〃Well；　you　see；　there's　a　great　difference　between　an　educated
man　and　an　old　carabineer　who　is　now　a　tax…collector。〃
Six　o'clock　struck。　Binet　came　in。
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。
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。
〃It　isn't　with　saying　civil　things　that　he'll　wear　out　his
tongue；〃　said　the　chemist；　as　soon　as　he　was　along　with　the
landlady。
〃He　never　talks　more；〃　she　replied。　〃Last　week　two　travelers　in
the　cloth　line　were　heresuch　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。〃
〃Yes；〃　observed　the　chemist；　〃no　imagination；　no　sallies；　nothing
that　makes　the　society…man。〃
〃Yet　they　say　he　has　parts；〃　objected　the　landlady。
〃Parts！〃　replied　Monsieur　Homais；　〃he；　parts！　In　his　own　line　it
is　possible；〃　he　added　in　a　calmer　tone。　And　he　went　on
〃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！〃
Madame　Lefrancois　just　then　went　to　the　door　to　see　if　the
〃Hirondelle〃　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。
〃What　can　I　do　for　you；　Monsieur　le　Curie？〃　asked　the　landlady；
as　she　reached　down　from　the　chimney　one　of　the　copper
candlesticks　placed　with　their　candles　in　a　row。　〃Will　you　take
something？　A　thimbleful　of　Cassis*？　A　glass　of　wine？〃
*Black　currant　liqueur。
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。
When　the　chemist　no　longer　heard　the　noise　of　his　boots　along　the
square；　he　thought　the　priest's　behaviour　just　now　very
un