madame bovary-第63章
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〃Oh； do not move！ do not speak！ look at me！ Something so sweet
comes from your eyes that helps me so much！〃
She called him 〃child。〃 〃Child； do you love me？〃
And she did not listen for his answer in the haste of her lips
that fastened to his mouth。
On the clock there was a bronze cupid； who smirked as he bent his
arm beneath a golden garland。 They had laughed at it many a time；
but when they had to part everything seemed serious to them。
Motionless in front of each other； they kept repeating； 〃Till
Thursday； till Thursday。〃
Suddenly she seized his head between her hands； kissed him
hurriedly on the forehead； crying； 〃Adieu！〃 and rushed down the
stairs。
She went to a hairdresser's in the Rue de la Comedie to have her
hair arranged。 Night fell； the gas was lighted in the shop。 She
heard the bell at the theatre calling the mummers to the
performance； and she saw； passing opposite； men with white faces
and women in faded gowns going in at the stage…door。
It was hot in the room； small； and too low where the stove was
hissing in the midst of wigs and pomades。 The smell of the tongs；
together with the greasy hands that handled her head； soon
stunned her； and she dozed a little in her wrapper。 Often； as he
did her hair； the man offered her tickets for a masked ball。
Then she went away。 She went up the streets； reached the
Croix…Rouge； put on her overshoes； that she had hidden in the
morning under the seat； and sank into her place among the
impatient passengers。 Some got out at the foot of the hill。 She
remained alone in the carriage。 At every turning all the lights
of the town were seen more and more completely； making a great
luminous vapour about the dim houses。 Emma knelt on the cushions
and her eyes wandered over the dazzling light。 She sobbed； called
on Leon； sent him tender words and kisses lost in the wind。
On the hillside a poor devil wandered about with his stick in the
midst of the diligences。 A mass of rags covered his shoulders；
and an old staved…in beaver； turned out like a basin； hid his
face； but when he took it off he discovered in the place of
eyelids empty and bloody orbits。 The flesh hung in red shreds；
and there flowed from it liquids that congealed into green scale
down to the nose； whose black nostrils sniffed convulsively。 To
speak to you he threw back his head with an idiotic laugh； then
his bluish eyeballs； rolling constantly； at the temples beat
against the edge of the open wound。 He sang a little song as he
followed the carriages
〃Maids an the warmth of a summer day
Dream of love； and of love always〃
And all the rest was about birds and sunshine and green leaves。
Sometimes he appeared suddenly behind Emma； bareheaded； and she
drew back with a cry。 Hivert made fun of him。 He would advise him
to get a booth at the Saint Romain fair； or else ask him；
laughing； how his young woman was。
Often they had started when； with a sudden movement； his hat
entered the diligence through the small window； while he clung
with his other arm to the footboard； between the wheels splashing
mud。 His voice； feeble at first and quavering； grew sharp； it
resounded in the night like the indistinct moan of a vague
distress； and through the ringing of the bells； the murmur of the
trees； and the rumbling of the empty vehicle； it had a far…off
sound that disturbed Emma。 It went to the bottom of her soul；
like a whirlwind in an abyss； and carried her away into the
distances of a boundless melancholy。 But Hivert； noticing a
weight behind； gave the blind man sharp cuts with his whip。 The
thong lashed his wounds； and he fell back into the mud with a
yell。 Then the； passengers in the 〃Hirondelle〃 ended by falling
asleep； some with open mouths； others with lowered chins； leaning
against their neighbour's shoulder； or with their arm passed
through the strap； oscillating regularly with the jolting of the
carriage； and the reflection of the lantern swinging without； on
the crupper of the wheeler； penetrating into the interior through
the chocolate calico curtains； threw sanguineous shadows over all
these motionless people。 Emma； drunk with grief； shivered in her
clothes； feeling her feet grow colder and colder； and death in
her soul。
Charles at home was waiting for her； the 〃Hirondelle〃 was always
late on Thursdays。 Madame arrived at last； and scarcely kissed
the child。 The dinner was not ready。 No matter！ She excused the
servant。 This girl now seemed allowed to do just as she liked。
Often her husband； noting her pallor； asked if she were unwell。
〃No；〃 said Emma。
〃But；〃 he replied； 〃you seem so strange this evening。〃
〃Oh； it's nothing！ nothing！〃
There were even days when she had no sooner come in than she went
up to her room； and Justin； happening to be there； moved about
noiselessly； quicker at helping her than the best of maids。 He
put the matches ready； the candlestick； a book； arranged her
nightgown； turned back the bedclothes。
〃Come！〃 said she； 〃that will do。 Now you can go。〃
For he stood there； his hands hanging down and his eyes wide
open； as if enmeshed in the innumerable threads of a sudden
reverie。
The following day was frightful； and those that came after still
more unbearable； because of her impatience to once again seize
her happiness； an ardent lust； inflamed by the images of past
experience； and that burst forth freely on the seventh day
beneath Leon's caresses。 His ardours were hidden beneath
outbursts of wonder and gratitude。 Emma tasted this love in a
discreet； absorbed fashion； maintained it by all the artifices of
her tenderness； and trembled a little lest it should be lost
later on。
She often said to him； with her sweet； melancholy voice
〃Ah！ you too； you will leave me！ You will marry！ You will be like
all the others。〃
He asked； 〃What others？〃
〃Why； like all men；〃 she replied。 Then added； repulsing him with
a languid movement
〃You are all evil！〃
One day； as they were talking philosophically of earthly
disillusions； to experiment on his jealousy； or yielding；
perhaps； to an over…strong need to pour out her heart； she told
him that formerly； before him； she had loved someone。
〃Not like you；〃 she went on quickly； protesting by the head of
her child that 〃nothing had passed between them。〃
The young man believed her； but none the less questioned her to
find out what he was。
〃He was a ship's captain； my dear。〃
Was this not preventing any inquiry； and； at the same time；
assuming a higher ground through this pretended fascination
exercised over a man who must have been of warlike nature and
accustomed to receive homage？
The clerk then felt the lowliness of his position； he longed for
epaulettes； crosses； titles。 All that would please herhe
gathered that from her spendthrift habits。
Emma nevertheless concealed many of these extravagant fancies；
such as her wish to have a blue tilbury to drive into Rouen；
drawn by an English horse and driven by a groom in top…boots。 It
was Justin who had inspired her with this whim； by begging her to
take him into her service as valet…de…chambre*； and if the
privation of it did not lessen the pleasure of her arrival at
each rendezvous； it certainly augmented the bitterness of the
return。
* Manservant。
Often； when they talked together of Paris； she ended by
murmuring； 〃Ah！ how happy we should be there！〃
〃Are we not happy？〃 gently answered the young man passing his
hands over her hair。
〃Yes； that is true；〃 she said。 〃I am mad。 Kiss me！〃
To her husband she was more charming than ever。 She made him
pistachio…creams； and played him waltzes after dinner。 So he
thought himself the most fortunate of men and Emma was without
uneasiness； when； one evening suddenly he said
〃It is Mademoiselle Lempereur； isn't it； who gives you lessons？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Well； I saw her just now；〃 Charles went on； 〃at Madame
Liegeard's。 I spoke to her about you； and she doesn't know you。〃
This was like a thunderclap。 However； she replied quite
naturally
〃Ah！ no doubt she forgot my name。〃
〃But perhaps；〃 said the doctor； 〃there are several Demoiselles
Lempereur at Rouen who are music…mistresses。〃
〃Possibly！〃 The
