首页 >出版文学> Madame Bovary>第1章

第1章

  Accept,then,here,thehomageofmygratitude,which,howgreatsoeveritis,willneverattaintheheightofyoureloquenceandyourdevotion。
  Wewereinclasswhenthehead-mastercamein,followedbya“newfellow,“notwearingtheschooluniform,andaschoolservantcarryingalargedesk。Thosewhohadbeenasleepwokeup,andeveryoneroseasifjustsurprisedathiswork。
  Thehead-mastermadeasigntoustositdown。Then,turningtotheclass-master,hesaidtohiminalowvoice——
  “MonsieurRoger,hereisapupilwhomIrecommendtoyourcare;
  he’llbeinthesecond。Ifhisworkandconductaresatisfactory,hewillgointooneoftheupperclasses,asbecomeshisage。“
  The“newfellow,“standinginthecornerbehindthedoorsothathecouldhardlybeseen,wasacountryladofaboutfifteen,andtallerthananyofus。Hishairwascutsquareonhisforeheadlikeavillagechorister’s;helookedreliable,butveryillatease。Althoughhewasnotbroad-shouldered,hisshortschooljacketofgreenclothwithblackbuttonsmusthavebeentightaboutthearm-holes,andshowedattheopeningofthecuffsredwristsaccustomedtobeingbare。Hislegs,inbluestockings,lookedoutfrombeneathyellowtrousers,drawntightbybraces,Heworestout,ill-cleaned,hob-nailedboots。
  Webeganrepeatingthelesson。Helistenedwithallhisears,asattentiveasifatasermon,notdaringeventocrosshislegsorleanonhiselbow;andwhenattwoo’clockthebellrang,themasterwasobligedtotellhimtofallintolinewiththerestofus。
  Whenwecamebacktowork,wewereinthehabitofthrowingourcapsonthegroundsoastohaveourhandsmorefree;weusedfromthedoortotossthemundertheform,sothattheyhitagainstthewallandmadealotofdust:itwas“thething。“
  But,whetherhehadnotnoticedthetrick,ordidnotdaretoattemptit,the“newfellow,“wasstillholdinghiscaponhiskneesevenafterprayerswereover。Itwasoneofthosehead-gearsofcompositeorder,inwhichwecanfindtracesofthebearskin,shako,billycockhat,sealskincap,andcottonnight-cap;oneofthosepoorthings,infine,whosedumbuglinesshasdepthsofexpression,likeanimbecile’sface。Oval,stiffenedwithwhalebone,itbeganwiththreeroundknobs;thencameinsuccessionlozengesofvelvetandrabbit-skinseparatedbyaredband;afterthatasortofbagthatendedinacardboardpolygoncoveredwithcomplicatedbraiding,fromwhichhung,attheendofalongthincord,smalltwistedgoldthreadsinthemannerofatassel。Thecapwasnew;itspeakshone。
  “Rise,“saidthemaster。
  Hestoodup;hiscapfell。Thewholeclassbegantolaugh。Hestoopedtopickitup。Aneighborknockeditdownagainwithhiselbow;hepickedituponcemore。
  “Getridofyourhelmet,“saidthemaster,whowasabitofawag。
  Therewasaburstoflaughterfromtheboys,whichsothoroughlyputthepoorladoutofcountenancethathedidnotknowwhethertokeephiscapinhishand,leaveitontheground,orputitonhishead。Hesatdownagainandplaceditonhisknee。
  “Rise,“repeatedthemaster,“andtellmeyourname。“
  Thenewboyarticulatedinastammeringvoiceanunintelligiblename。
  “Again!“
  Thesamesputteringofsyllableswasheard,drownedbythetitteringoftheclass。
  “Louder!“criedthemaster;“louder!“
  The“newfellow“thentookasupremeresolution,openedaninordinatelylargemouth,andshoutedatthetopofhisvoiceasifcallingsomeoneintheword“Charbovari。“
  Ahubbubbrokeout,roseincrescendowithburstsofshrillvoicestheyyelled,barked,stamped,repeated“Charbovari!
  Charbovari“,thendiedawayintosinglenotes,growingquieteronlywithgreatdifficulty,andnowandagainsuddenlyrecommencingalongthelineofaformwhencerosehereandthere,likeadampcrackergoingoff,astifledlaugh。
  However,amidarainofimpositions,orderwasgraduallyre-establishedintheclass;andthemasterhavingsucceededincatchingthenameof“CharlesBovary,“havinghaditdictatedtohim,speltout,andre-read,atonceorderedthepoordeviltogoandsitdownonthepunishmentformatthefootofthemaster’sdesk。Hegotup,butbeforegoinghesitated。
  “Whatareyoulookingfor?“askedthemaster。
  “Myc-a-p,“timidlysaidthe“newfellow,“castingtroubledlooksroundhim。
  “Fivehundredlinesforalltheclass!“shoutedinafuriousvoicestopped,liketheQuosego*,afreshoutburst。“Silence!“
  continuedthemasterindignantly,wipinghisbrowwithhishandkerchief,whichhehadjusttakenfromhiscap。“Astoyou,’newboy,’youwillconjugate’ridiculussum’**twentytimes。“
  Then,inagentlertone,“Come,you’llfindyourcapagain;ithasn’tbeenstolen。“
  *AquotationfromtheAeneidsignifyingathreat。
  **Iamridiculous。
  Quietwasrestored。Headsbentoverdesks,andthe“newfellow“
  remainedfortwohoursinanexemplaryattitude,althoughfromtimetotimesomepaperpelletflippedfromthetipofapencamebanginhisface。Buthewipedhisfacewithonehandandcontinuedmotionless,hiseyeslowered。
  Intheevening,atpreparation,hepulledouthispensfromhisdesk,arrangedhissmallbelongings,andcarefullyruledhispaper。Wesawhimworkingconscientiously,lookingupeverywordinthedictionary,andtakingthegreatestpains。Thanks,nodoubt,tothewillingnessheshowed,hehadnottogodowntotheclassbelow。Butthoughheknewhisrulespassably,hehadlittlefinishincomposition。ItwasthecureofhisvillagewhohadtaughthimhisfirstLatin;hisparents,frommotivesofeconomy,havingsenthimtoschoolaslateaspossible。
  Hisfather,MonsieurCharlesDenisBartolomeBovary,retiredassistant-surgeon-major,compromisedabout1812incertainconscriptionscandals,andforcedatthistimetoleavetheservice,hadtakenadvantageofhisfinefiguretogetholdofadowryofsixtythousandfrancsthatofferedinthepersonofahosier’sdaughterwhohadfalleninlovewithhisgoodlooks。A
  fineman,agreattalker,makinghisspursringashewalked,wearingwhiskersthatranintohismoustache,hisfingersalwaysgarnishedwithringsanddressedinloudcolours,hehadthedashofamilitarymanwiththeeasygoofacommercialtraveller。
  Oncemarried,helivedforthreeorfouryearsonhiswife’sfortune,diningwell,risinglate,smokinglongporcelainpipes,notcominginatnighttillafterthetheatre,andhauntingcafes。Thefather-in-lawdied,leavinglittle;hewasindignantatthis,“wentinforthebusiness,“lostsomemoneyinit,thenretiredtothecountry,wherehethoughthewouldmakemoney。
  But,asheknewnomoreaboutfarmingthancalico,asherodehishorsesinsteadofsendingthemtoplough,drankhisciderinbottleinsteadofsellingitincask,atethefinestpoultryinhisfarmyard,andgreasedhishunting-bootswiththefatofhispigs,hewasnotlonginfindingoutthathewoulddobettertogiveupallspeculation。
  FortwohundredfrancsayearhemanagedtoliveontheborderoftheprovincesofCauxandPicardy,inakindofplacehalffarm,halfprivatehouse;andhere,soured,eatenupwithregrets,cursinghisluck,jealousofeveryone,heshuthimselfupattheageofforty-five,sickofmen,hesaid,anddeterminedtoliveatpeace。
  Hiswifehadadoredhimonceonatime;shehadboredhimwithathousandservilitiesthathadonlyestrangedhimthemore。Livelyonce,expansiveandaffectionate,ingrowingoldershehadbecomeafterthefashionofwinethat,exposedtoair,turnstovinegarill-tempered,grumbling,irritable。Shehadsufferedsomuchwithoutcomplaintatfirst,untilshehadseemhimgoingafterallthevillagedrabs,anduntilascoreofbadhousessenthimbacktoheratnight,weary,stinkingdrunk。Thenherpriderevolted。Afterthatshewassilent,buryingherangerinadumbstoicismthatshemaintainedtillherdeath。Shewasconstantlygoingaboutlookingafterbusinessmatters。Shecalledonthelawyers,thepresident,rememberedwhenbillsfelldue,gotthemrenewed,andathomeironed,sewed,washed,lookedaftertheworkmen,paidtheaccounts,whilehe,troublinghimselfaboutnothing,eternallybesottedinsleepysulkiness,whenceheonlyrousedhimselftosaydisagreeablethingstoher,satsmokingbythefireandspittingintothecinders。
  Whenshehadachild,ithadtobesentouttonurse。Whenhecamehome,theladwasspoiltasifhewereaprince。Hismotherstuffedhimwithjam;hisfatherlethimrunaboutbarefoot,and,playingthephilosopher,evensaidhemightaswellgoaboutquitenakedliketheyoungofanimals。Asopposedtothematernalideas,hehadacertainvirileideaofchildhoodonwhichhesoughttomouldhisson,wishinghimtobebroughtuphardily,likeaSpartan,togivehimastrongconstitution。Hesenthimtobedwithoutanyfire,taughthimtodrinkofflargedraughtsofrumandtojeeratreligiousprocessions。But,peaceablebynature,theladansweredonlypoorlytohisnotions。Hismotheralwayskepthimnearher;shecutoutcardboardforhim,toldhimtales,entertainedhimwithendlessmonologuesfullofmelancholygaietyandcharmingnonsense。Inherlife’sisolationshecenteredonthechild’sheadallhershattered,brokenlittlevanities。Shedreamedofhighstation;shealreadysawhim,tall,handsome,clever,settledasanengineerorinthelaw。Shetaughthimtoread,andeven,onanoldpiano,shehadtaughthimtwoorthreelittlesongs。ButtoallthisMonsieurBovary,caringlittleforletters,said,“Itwasnotworthwhile。Wouldtheyeverhavethemeanstosendhimtoapublicschool,tobuyhimapractice,orstarthiminbusiness?Besides,withcheekamanalwaysgetsonintheworld。“MadameBovarybitherlips,andthechildknockedaboutthevillage。
  Hewentafterthelabourers,droveawaywithclodsofearththeravensthatwereflyingabout。Heateblackberriesalongthehedges,mindedthegeesewithalongswitch,wenthaymakingduringharvest,ranaboutinthewoods,playedhop-scotchunderthechurchporchonrainydays,andatgreatfetesbeggedthebeadletolethimtollthebells,thathemighthangallhisweightonthelongropeandfeelhimselfborneupwardbyitinitsswing。Meanwhilehegrewlikeanoak;hewasstrongonhand,freshofcolour。
  Whenhewastwelveyearsoldhismotherhadherownway;hebeganlessons。Thecuretookhiminhand;butthelessonsweresoshortandirregularthattheycouldnotbeofmuchuse。Theyweregivenatsparemomentsinthesacristy,standingup,hurriedly,betweenabaptismandaburial;orelsethecure,ifhehadnottogoout,sentforhispupilaftertheAngelus*。Theywentuptohisroomandsettleddown;thefliesandmothsflutteredroundthecandle。Itwasclose,thechildfellasleep,andthegoodman,beginningtodozewithhishandsonhisstomach,wassoonsnoringwithhismouthwideopen。Onotheroccasions,whenMonsieurleCure,onhiswaybackafteradministeringtheviaticumtosomesickpersonintheneighbourhood,caughtsightofCharlesplayingaboutthefields,hecalledhim,lecturedhimforaquarterofanhourandtookadvantageoftheoccasiontomakehimconjugatehisverbatthefootofatree。Theraininterruptedthemoranacquaintancepassed。Allthesamehewasalwayspleasedwithhim,andevensaidthe“youngman“hadaverygoodmemory。