madame bovary-第45章

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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。

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。

〃What　is　that　for？〃　asked　the　young　fellow；　passing　his　hand　over
the　crinoline　or　the　hooks　and　eyes。

〃Why；　haven't　you　ever　seen　anything？〃　Felicite　answered
laughing。　〃As　if　your　mistress；　Madame　Homais；　didn't　wear　the
same。〃

〃Oh；　I　daresay！　Madame　Homais！〃　And　he　added　with　a　meditative
air；　〃As　if　she　were　a　lady　like　madame！〃

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。

〃Let　me　alone；〃　she　said；　moving　her　pot　of　starch。　〃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。〃

〃Oh；　don't　be　cross！　I'll　go　and　clean　her　boots。〃

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。

〃How　afraid　you　are　of　spoiling　them！〃　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。

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　l