madame bovary(包法利夫人)-第5节

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I　called　on　God；　I　talked　nonsense　to　Him。　I　wanted　to　be　like
the　moles　that　I　saw　on　the　branches；　their　insides　swarming　with
worms；　dead；　and　an　end　of　it。　And　when　I　thought　that　there　were
others　at　that　very　moment　with　their　nice　little　wives　holding
them　in　their　embrace；　I　struck　great　blows　on　the　earth　with　my
stick。　I　was　pretty　well　mad　with　not　eating；　the　very　idea　of
going　to　a　cafe　disgusted　meyou　wouldn't　believe　it。　Well；
quite　softly；　one　day　following　another；　a　spring　on　a　winter；
and　an　autumn　after　a　summer；　this　wore　away；　piece　by　piece；
crumb　by　crumb；　it　passed　away；　it　is　gone；　I　should　say　it　has
sunk；　for　something　always　remains　at　the　bottom　as　one　would
saya　weight　here；　at　one's　heart。　But　since　it　is　the　lot　of
all　of　us；　one　must　not　give　way　altogether；　and；　because　others
have　died；　want　to　die　too。　You　must　pull　yourself　together；
Monsieur　Bovary。　It　will　pass　away。　Come　to　see　us；　my　daughter
thinks　of　you　now　and　again；　d'ye　know；　and　she　says　you　are
forgetting　her。　Spring　will　soon　be　here。　We'll　have　some
rabbit…shooting　in　the　warrens　to　amuse　you　a　bit。〃
Charles　followed　his　advice。　He　went　back　to　the　Bertaux。　He
found　all　as　he　had　left　it；　that　is　to　say；　as　it　was　five
months　ago。　The　pear　trees　were　already　in　blossom；　and　Farmer
Rouault；　on　his　legs　again；　came　and　went；　making　the　farm　more
full　of　life。
Thinking　it　his　duty　to　heap　the　greatest　attention　upon　the
doctor　because　of　his　sad　position；　he　begged　him　not　to　take　his
hat　off；　spoke　to　him　in　an　undertone　as　if　he　had　been　ill；　and
even　pretended　to　be　angry　because　nothing　rather　lighter　had
been　prepared　for　him　than　for　the　others；　such　as　a　little
clotted　cream　or　stewed　pears。　He　told　stories。　Charles　found
himself　laughing；　but　the　remembrance　of　his　wife　suddenly　coming
back　to　him　depressed　him。　Coffee　was　brought　in；　he　thought　no
more　about　her。
He　thought　less　of　her　as　he　grew　accustomed　to　living　alone。　The
new　delight　of　independence　soon　made　his　loneliness　bearable。　He
could　now　change　his　meal…times；　go　in　or　out　without
explanation；　and　when　he　was　very　tired　stretch　himself　at　full
length　on　his　bed。　So　he　nursed　and　coddled　himself　and　accepted
the　consolations　that　were　offered　him。　On　the　other　hand；　the
death　of　his　wife　had　not　served　him　ill　in　his　business；　since
for　a　month　people　had　been　saying；　〃The　poor　young　man！　what　a
loss！〃　His　name　had　been　talked　about；　his　practice　had
increased；　and　moreover；　he　could　go　to　the　Bertaux　just　as　he
liked。　He　had　an　aimless　hope；　and　was　vaguely　happy；　he　thought
himself　better　looking　as　he　brushed　his　whiskers　before　the
looking…glass。
One　day　he　got　there　about　three　o'clock。　Everybody　was　in　the
fields。　He　went　into　the　kitchen；　but　did　not　at　once　catch　sight
of　Emma；　the　outside　shutters　were　closed。　Through　the　chinks　of
the　wood　the　sun　sent　across　the　flooring　long　fine　rays　that
were　broken　at　the　corners　of　the　furniture　and　trembled　along
the　ceiling。　Some　flies　on　the　table　were　crawling　up　the　glasses
that　had　been　used；　and　buzzing　as　they　drowned　themselves　in　the
dregs　of　the　cider。　The　daylight　that　came　in　by　the　chimney　made
velvet　of　the　soot　at　the　back　of　the　fireplace；　and　touched　with
blue　the　cold　cinders。　Between　the　window　and　the　hearth　Emma　was
sewing；　she　wore　no　fichu；　he　could　see　small　drops　of
perspiration　on　her　bare　shoulders。
After　the　fashion　of　country　folks　she　asked　him　to　have
something　to　drink。　He　said　no；　she　insisted；　and　at　last
laughingly　offered　to　have　a　glass　of　liqueur　with　him。　So　she
went　to　fetch　a　bottle　of　curacao　from　the　cupboard；　reached　down
two　small　glasses；　filled　one　to　the　brim；　poured　scarcely
anything　into　the　other；　and；　after　having　clinked　glasses；
carried　hers　to　her　mouth。　As　it　was　almost　empty　she　bent　back
to　drink；　her　head　thrown　back；　her　lips　pouting；　her　neck　on　the
strain。　She　laughed　at　getting　none　of　it；　while　with　the　tip　of
her　tongue　passing　between　her　small　teeth　she　licked　drop　by
drop　the　bottom　of　her　glass。
She　sat　down　again　and　took　up　her　work；　a　white　cotton　stocking
she　was　darning。　She　worked　with　her　head　bent　down；　she　did　not
speak；　nor　did　Charles。　The　air　coming　in　under　the　door　blew　a
little　dust　over　the　flags；　he　watched　it　drift　along；　and　heard
nothing　but　the　throbbing　in　his　head　and　the　faint　clucking　of　a
hen　that　had　laid　an　egg　in　the　yard。　Emma　from　time　to　time
cooled　her　cheeks　with　the　palms　of　her　hands；　and　cooled　these
again　on　the　knobs　of　the　huge　fire…dogs。
She　complained　of　suffering　since　the　beginning　of　the　season
from　giddiness；　she　asked　if　sea…baths　would　do　her　any　good；　she
began　talking　of　her　convent；　Charles　of　his　school；　words　came
to　them。　They　went　up　into　her　bedroom。　She　showed　him　her　old
music…books；　the　little　prizes　she　had　won；　and　the　oak…leaf
crowns；　left　at　the　bottom　of　a　cupboard。　She　spoke　to　him；　too；
of　her　mother；　of　the　country；　and　even　showed　him　the　bed　in　the
garden　where；　on　the　first　Friday　of　every　month；　she　gathered
flowers　to　put　on　her　mother's　tomb。　But　the　gardener　they　had
never　knew　anything　about　it；　servants　are　so　stupid！　She　would
have　dearly　liked；　if　only　for　the　winter；　to　live　in　town；
although　the　length　of　the　fine　days　made　the　country　perhaps
even　more　wearisome　in　the　summer。　And；　according　to　what　she　was
saying；　her　voice　was　clear；　sharp；　or；　on　a　sudden　all　languor；
drawn　out　in　modulations　that　ended　almost　in　murmurs　as　she
spoke　to　herself；　now　joyous；　opening　big　naive　eyes；　then　with
her　eyelids　half　closed；　her　look　full　of　boredom；　her　thoughts
wandering。
Going　home　at　night；　Charles　went　over　her　words　one　by　one；
trying　to　recall　them；　to　fill　out　their　sense；　that　he　might
piece　out　the　life　she　had　lived　before　he　knew　her。　But　he　never
saw　her　in　his　thoughts　other　than　he　had　seen　her　the　first
time；　or　as　he　had　just　left　her。　Then　he　asked　himself　what
would　become　of　herif　she　would　be　married；　and　to　whom！　Alas！
Old　Rouault　was　rich；　and　she！so　beautiful！　But　Emma's　face
always　rose　before　his　eyes；　and　a　monotone；　like　the　humming　of
a　top；　sounded　in　his　ears；　〃If　you　should　marry　after　all！　If
you　should　marry！〃　At　night　he　could　not　sleep；　his　throat　was
parched；　he　was　athirst。　He　got　up　to　drink　from　the　water…bottle
and　opened　the　window。　The　night　was　covered　with　stars；　a　warm
wind　blowing　in　the　distance；　the　dogs　were　barking。　He　turned
his　head　towards　the　Bertaux。
Thinking　that；　after　all；　he　should　lose　nothing；　Charles
promised　himself　to　ask　her　in　marriage　as　soon　as　occasion
offered；　but　each　time　such　occasion　did　offer　the　fear　of　not
finding　the　right　words　sealed　his　lips。
Old　Rouault　would　not　have　been　sorry　to　be　rid　of　his　daughter；
who　was　of　no　use　to　him　in　the　house。　In　his　heart　he　excused
her；　thinking　her　too　clever　for　farming；　a　calling　under　the　ban
of　Heaven；　since　one　never　saw　a　millionaire　in　it。　Far　from
having　made　a　fortune　by　it；　the　good　man　was　losing　every　year；
for　if　he　was　good　in　bargaining；　in　which　he　enjoyed　the　dodges
of　the　trade；　on　the　other　hand；　agriculture　properly　so　called；
and　the　internal　management　of　the　farm；　suited　him　less　than
most　people。　He　did　not　willingly　take　his　hands　out　of　his
pockets；　and　did　not　spare　expense　in　all　that　concerned　himself；
liking　to　eat　well；　to　have　good　fires；　and　to　sleep　well。　He
liked　old　cider；　underdone　legs　of　mutton；　glorias*　well　beaten
up。　He　took　his　meals　in　the　kitchen　alone；　opposite　the　fire；　on
a　little　table　brought　to　him　all　ready　laid　as　on　the　stage。
*A　mixture　of　coffee　and　spirits。
When；　therefore；　he　perceived　that　Charles's　cheeks　grew　red　if
near　his　daughter；　which　meant　that　he　would　propose　for　her　one
of　these　days；　he　chewed　the　cud　of　the　matter　beforehand。　He
certainly　thought　him　a　little　meagre；　and　not　quite　the
son…in…law　he　would　have　liked；　but　he　was　said　to　be　well
brought…up；　economical；　very　learned；　and　no　doubt　would　not　make
too　many　difficulties　about　the　dowry。　Now；　as　old　Rouault　would
soon　be　forced　to　sell　twenty…two　acres　of　〃his　property；〃
as　he　owed　a　good　deal　to　the　mason；　to　the　harness…maker；　and　as
the　shaft　of　the　cider…press　wanted　renewing；　〃If　he　asks　for
her；〃　he　said　to　himself；　〃I'll　give　her　to　him。〃
At　Michaelmas　Charles　went　to　spend　three　days　at　the　Bertaux。
The　last　had　passed　like　the　others　in　procrastinating　from　hour
to　hour。　Old　Rouault　was　seeing　him　off；　they　were　walking　along
the　road　full　of　ruts；　they　were　about　to　part。　This　was　the
time。　Charles　gave　himself　as　far　as　to　the　corner　of　the　hedge；
and　at　last；　when　past　it
〃Monsieur　Rouault；〃　he　murmured；　〃I　should　like　to　say　something
to　you。〃
They　stopped。　Charles　was　silent。
〃Well；　tell　me　your　story。　Don't　I　know　all　about　it？〃　said　old
Rouault；　laughing　softly。
〃Monsieur　RouaultMonsieur　Rouault；〃　stammered　Charles。
〃I　ask　nothing　better〃；　the　farmer　went　on。　〃Although；　no　doubt；
the　little　one　is　of　my　mind；　still　we　must　ask　her　opinion。　So
you　get　offI'll　go　back　home。　If　it　is　〃yes〃；　you　needn't
return　because　of　all　the　people　about；　and　besides　it　would
upse