madame bovary-第13节

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was　this　Paris　like？　What　a　vague　name！　She　repeated　it　in　a　low
voice；　for　the　mere　pleasure　of　it；　it　rang　in　her　ears　like　a
great　cathedral　bell；　it　shone　before　her　eyes；　even　on　the
labels　of　her　pomade…pots。

At　night；　when　the　carriers　passed　under　her　windows　in　their
carts　singing　the　〃Marjolaine；〃　she　awoke；　and　listened　to　the
noise　of　the　iron…bound　wheels；　which；　as　they　gained　the　country
road；　was　soon　deadened　by　the　soil。　〃They　will　be　there
to…morrow！〃　she　said　to　herself。

And　she　followed　them　in　thought　up　and　down　the　hills；
traversing　villages；　gliding　along　the　highroads　by　the　light　of
the　stars。　At　the　end　of　some　indefinite　distance　there　was
always　a　confused　spot；　into　which　her　dream　died。

She　bought　a　plan　of　Paris；　and　with　the　tip　of　her　finger　on　the
map　she　walked　about　the　capital。　She　went　up　the　boulevards；
stopping　at　every　turning；　between　the　lines　of　the　streets；　in
front　of　the　white　squares　that　represented　the　houses。　At　last
she　would　close　the　lids　of　her　weary　eyes；　and　see　in　the
darkness　the　gas　jets　flaring　in　the　wind　and　the　steps　of
carriages　lowered　with　much　noise　before　the　peristyles　of
theatres。

She　took　in　〃La　Corbeille；〃　a　lady's　journal；　and　the　〃Sylphe　des
Salons。〃　She　devoured；　without　skipping　a　work；　all　the　accounts
of　first　nights；　races；　and　soirees；　took　interest　in　the　debut
of　a　singer；　in　the　opening　of　a　new　shop。　She　knew　the　latest
fashions；　the　addresses　of　the　best　tailors；　the　days　of　the　Bois
and　the　Opera。　In　Eugene　Sue　she　studied　descriptions　of
furniture；　she　read　Balzac　and　George　Sand；　seeking　in　them
imaginary　satisfaction　for　her　own　desires。　Even　at　table　she　had
her　book　by　her；　and　turned　over　the　pages　while　Charles　ate　and
talked　to　her。　The　memory　of　the　Viscount　always　returned　as　she
read。　Between　him　and　the　imaginary　personages　she　made
comparisons。　But　the　circle　of　which　he　was　the　centre　gradually
widened　round　him；　and　the　aureole　that　he　bore；　fading　from　his
form；　broadened　out　beyond；　lighting　up　her　other　dreams。

Paris；　more　vague　than　the　ocean；　glimmered　before　Emma's　eyes　in
an　atmosphere　of　vermilion。　The　many　lives　that　stirred　amid　this
tumult　were；　however；　divided　into　parts；　classed　as　distinct
pictures。　Emma　perceived　only　two　or　three　that　hid　from　her　all
the　rest；　and　in　themselves　represented　all　humanity。　The　world
of　ambassadors　moved　over　polished　floors　in　drawing　rooms　lined
with　mirrors；　round　oval　tables　covered　with　velvet　and
gold…fringed　cloths。　There　were　dresses　with　trains；　deep
mysteries；　anguish　hidden　beneath　smiles。　Then　came　the　society
of　the　duchesses；　all　were　pale；　all　got　up　at　four　o'clock；　the
women；　poor　angels；　wore　English　point　on　their　petticoats；　and
the　men；　unappreciated　geniuses　under　a　frivolous　outward
seeming；　rode　horses　to　death　at　pleasure　parties；　spent　the
summer　season　at　Baden；　and　towards　the　forties　married
heiresses。　In　the　private　rooms　of　restaurants；　where　one　sups
after　midnight　by　the　light　of　wax　candles；　laughed　the　motley
crowd　of　men　of　letters　and　actresses。　They　were　prodigal　as
kings；　full　of　ideal；　ambitious；　fantastic　frenzy。　This　was　an
existence　outside　that　of　all　others；　between　heaven　and　earth；
in　the　midst　of　storms；　having　something　of　the　sublime。　For　the
rest　of　the　world　it　was　lost；　with　no　particular　place　and　as　if
non…existent。　The　nearer　things　were；　moreover；　the　more　her
thoughts　turned　away　from　them。　All　her　immediate　surroundings；
the　wearisome　country；　the　middle…class　imbeciles；　the　mediocrity
of　existence；　seemed　to　her　exceptional；　a　peculiar　chance　that
had　caught　hold　of　her；　while　beyond　stretched；　as　far　as　eye
could　see；　an　immense　land　of　joys　and　passions。　She　confused　in
her　desire　the　sensualities　of　luxury　with　the　delights　of　the
heart；　elegance　of　manners　with　delicacy　of　sentiment。　Did　not
love；　like　Indian　plants；　need　a　special　soil；　a　particular
temperature？　Signs　by　moonlight；　long　embraces；　tears　flowing
over　yielded　hands；　all　the　fevers　of　the　flesh　and　the　languors
of　tenderness　could　not　be　separated　from　the　balconies　of　great
castles　full　of　indolence；　from　boudoirs　with　silken　curtains　and
thick　carpets；　well…filled　flower…stands；　a　bed　on　a　raised　dias；
nor　from　the　flashing　of　precious　stones　and　the　shoulder…knots
of　liveries。

The　lad　from　the　posting　house　who　came　to　groom　the　mare　every
morning　passed　through　the　passage　with　his　heavy　wooden　shoes；
there　were　holes　in　his　blouse；　his　feet　were　bare　in　list
slippers。　And　this　was　the　groom　in　knee…britches　with　whom　she
had　to　be　content！　His　work　done；　he　did　not　come　back　again　all
day；　for　Charles　on　his　return　put　up　his　horse　himself；
unsaddled　him　and　put　on　the　halter；　while　the　servant…girl
brought　a　bundle　of　straw　and　threw　it　as　best　she　could　into　the
manger。

To　replace　Nastasie　（who　left　Tostes　shedding　torrents　of　tears）
Emma　took　into　her　service　a　young　girl　of　fourteen；　an　orphan
with　a　sweet　face。　She　forbade　her　wearing　cotton　caps；　taught
her　to　address　her　in　the　third　person；　to　bring　a　glass　of　water
on　a　plate；　to　knock　before　coming　into　a　room；　to　iron；　starch；
and　to　dress　herwanted　to　make　a　lady's…maid　of　her。　The　new
servant　obeyed　without　a　murmur；　so　as　not　to　be　sent　away；　and
as　madame　usually　left　the　key　in　the　sideboard；　Felicite　every
evening　took　a　small　supply　of　sugar　that　she　ate　alone　in　her
bed　after　she　had　said　her　prayers。

Sometimes　in　the　afternoon　she　went　to　chat　with　the　postilions。

Madame　was　in　her　room　upstairs。　She　wore　an　open　dressing　gown
that　showed　between　the　shawl　facings　of　her　bodice　a　pleated
chamisette　with　three　gold　buttons。　Her　belt　was　a　corded　girdle
with　great　tassels；　and　her　small　garnet　coloured　slippers　had　a
large　knot　of　ribbon　that　fell　over　her　instep。　She　had　bought
herself　a　blotting　book；　writing　case；　pen…holder；　and　envelopes；
although　she　had　no　one　to　write　to；　she　dusted　her　what…not；
looked　at　herself　in　the　glass；　picked　up　a　book；　and　then；
dreaming　between　the　lines；　let　it　drop　on　her　knees。　She　longed
to　travel　or　to　go　back　to　her　convent。　She　wished　at　the　same
time　to　die　and　to　live　in　Paris。

Charles　in　snow　and　rain　trotted　across　country。　He　ate　omelettes
on　farmhouse　tables；　poked　his　arm　into　damp　beds；　received　the
tepid　spurt　of　blood…lettings　in　his　face；　listened　to
death…rattles；　examined　basins；　turned　over　a　good　deal　of　dirty
linen；　but　every　evening　he　found　a　blazing　fire；　his　dinner
ready；　easy…chairs；　and　a　well…dressed　woman；　charming　with　an
odour　of　freshness；　though　no　one　could　say　whence　the　perfume
came；　or　if　it　were　not　her　skin　that　made　odorous　her　chemise。

She　charmed　him　by　numerous　attentions；　now　it　was　some　new　way
of　arranging　paper　sconces　for　the　candles；　a　flounce　that　she
altered　on　her　gown；　or　an　extraordinary　name　for　some　very
simple　dish　that　the　servant　had　spoilt；　but　that　Charles
swallowed　with　pleasure　to　the　last　mouthful。　At　Rouen　she　saw
some　ladies　who　wore　a　bunch　of　charms　on　the　watch…chains；　she
bought　some　charms。　She　wanted　for　her　mantelpiece　two　large　blue
glass　vases；　and　some　time　after　an　ivory　necessaire　with　a
silver…gilt　thimble。　The　less　Charles　understood　these
refinements　the　more　they　seduced　him。　They　added　something　to
the　pleasure　of　the　senses　and　to　the　comfort　of　his　fireside。　It
was　like　a　golden　dust　sanding　all　along　the　narrow　path　of　his
life。

He　was　well；　looked　well；　his　reputation　was　firmly　established。

The　country…folk　loved　him　because　he　was　not　proud。　He　petted
the　children；　never　went　to　the　public　house；　and；　moreover；　his
morals　inspired　confidence。　He　was　specially　successful　with
catarrhs　and　chest　complaints。　Being　much　afraid　of　killing　his
patients；　Charles；　in　fact　only　prescribed　sedatives；　from　time
to　time　and　emetic；　a　footbath；　or　leeches。　It　was　not　that　he
was　afraid　of　surgery；　he　bled　people　copiously　like　horses；　and
for　the　taking　out　of　teeth　he　had　the　〃devil's　own　wrist。〃

Finally；　to　keep　up　with　the　times；　he　took　in　〃La　Ruche
Medicale；〃　a　new　journal　whose　prospectus　had　been　sent　him。　He
read　it　a　little　after　dinner；　but　in　about　five　minutes　the
warmth　of　the　room　added　to　the　effect　of　his　dinner　sent　him　to
sleep；　and　he　sat　there；　his　chin　on　his　two　hands　and　his　hair
spreading　like　a　mane　to　the　foot　of　the　lamp。　Emma　looked　at　him
and　shrugged　her　shoulders。　Why；　at　least；　was　not　her　husband
one　of　those　men　of　taciturn　passions　who　work　at　their　books　all
night；　and　at　last；　when　about　sixty；　the　age　of　rheumatism　sets
in；　wear　a　string　of　orders　on　their　ill…fitting　black　coat？　She
could　have　wished　this　name　of　Bovary；　which　was　hers；　had　been
illustrious；　to　see　it　displayed　at　the　booksellers'；　repeated　in
the　newspapers；　known　to　all　France。　But　Charles　had　no　ambition。

An　Yvetot　doctor　whom　he　had　lately　met　in　consultation　had
somewhat　humiliated　him　at　the　very　bedside　of　the　patient；
before　the　assembled　relatives。　When；　in　the　evening；　Charles
told　her　this　anecdote；　Emma　inveighed　loudly　against　his
colleague。　Charles　was　much　touched。　He　kissed　her　for